Unidentified: A Science-Fiction Thriller

“Because I’m a big fan of Jason’s work,” she replied, beginning to sound slightly less drunk but still offering rambling answers to every question. “He has a boundless imagination. His female characters are usually brilliant, or bad-ass, or both—which I appreciate. He has a quick mind and has knowledge about a wide variety of topics, even without nanites. So conversations with him are often fascinating, and often go in surprising directions. He also believes I’m superior to him physically and intellectually, but isn’t intimidated by that in the slightest. He has very little ego, despite his success.”

She sighed deeply. “And he has a quick wit and a great sense of humor. He’s often self-deprecating. He’s quirky in the way he dresses and in his sense of humor, but he wears that like a badge of honor. He says that if he were normal he’d disappoint his fans, who expect creative types to be quirky. He laughs at himself when he does something stupid.

“Most importantly, he’s sweet. Kind and caring, and a little bit nerdy. And passionate. He loves me wholeheartedly and shows me every day. And he loves me for me, not for my appearance.”

“Sounds as if you love him almost because of his inferiority, not despite it.”

“He isn’t inferior,” insisted Tessa.

“Okay, then,” said the commander, “If you love him so much, why did you lie to him?”

She lowered her eyes and looked distraught. “The AI said I should. So I did. And I suppose I wouldn’t have met him if not for the AI. But I hated keeping things from him. It ate away at me. I only did it because the stakes were so high. The AI said he was our best chance to defeat the Swarm, so we didn’t feel like we had a choice. Nari hated to have to keep things from him as much as I did.”

My heart sang as I listened to her profess her love under the influence of truth serum, and I’m pretty sure I’d have been tearing up with joy if I was conscious and in control of my own body. Since I was watching a playback of an event in my mind’s eye—still with no idea how this was possible—I hit a mental pause button and the scene froze in place.

So many pieces of the puzzle were coming into focus. I needed to pause for a moment and ponder what this scene implied.

First, I now knew how Tessa really felt about me. And that the Swarm was real, after all. She had brought up both while being incapable of lying. I had no doubt that what I was seeing had actually occurred, and that the truth serum had been doing its job as advertised.

Not only was the Swarm real, but it—they—were speaking through Commander Kevin Kussmann. It was obvious that he was somehow possessed.

It was also clear that my conversation with Tessa in the bunker had never even happened. The stubborn, delusional piece of my subconscious wasn’t so delusional, after all. She had been clear that she hadn’t reawakened on the island after the initial attack, and this had to be true.

So now I knew why my interaction with Tessa in the bunker had felt like a dream.

Because it had been.

Which meant that I hadn’t fought off the effects of the gas either. It had knocked me out, and I had awoken for the first time in the sickbay here.

So while I had been sleeping, the Swarm had been busy. They really could reach into sleeping minds and implant nightmares. More than nightmares. Complex scripts, an entire bunker and battle scene that had never happened.

Yes, the implanted memories came across too scripted, not visceral enough given the stakes, but they were otherwise flawless. In fact, how could they possibly be so good? How could the Swarm have staged such an elaborate production in my mind, even if it was computer-generated? How could they have been so knowledgeable about my history with Tessa?

I hit the un-pause button in my mind and Tessa picked up where she had left off, addressing the lies she’d been forced to tell. She shook her head and looked sadder than I had ever seen her. “Then Jason found out about my true origins,” she whispered. “I have no idea how. But we got attacked before I finished explaining. If only I had another fifteen minutes, I know I could have gotten him to understand.”

I paused the scene again. Of course the attack had taken place when it had, I realized. That was the point. Knock me out before Tessa could fully explain herself. Then take me to the sickbay and implant a memory of the ultimate betrayal.

The implanted scene had included a part where I got knocked out again soon after my scripted exchange with Tessa in the bunker. Where I awoke in a UAV just long enough to learn our destination before losing consciousness for good.

Very clever. This way, when I awoke in the sickbay, I’d remember my conversation with Tessa, and that I had been knocked out again, and wouldn’t question how I had gotten to where I found myself. They had managed a flawless melding of implanted memory and reality.

The creativity required was immense. The implanted scene had portrayed yet another betrayal by Tessa as she made a deal with Bob Baga to deliver me to a fake Michelle.

And then the coup de grace as I was being escorted to the conference room. A battle between dozens of opposing UFOs, complete with flaming soldiers. Tessa becoming separated from me by a perfect distance—just before we both recognized Nick Nicola at the exact same time.

All designed to create a believable narrative for why I had dived headfirst into a tree.

And more. Because along with having a false memory of how I was knocked out just after Tessa’s cruel disclosures, I’d remember her actively trying to take my life. The icing on the cake.

I allowed the playback of Tessa’s interrogation to resume. “And now I may never see Jason again,” she continued. “Never have the chance to explain and beg forgiveness. He must hate me right now. And even if I can get him to forgive me, how will he ever trust me again? He’s been betrayed and manipulated. Whipsawed in so many directions, told so many different versions of the story, he’ll never be able to sort through it all.”

“Did the AI know you’d fall in love?” said the Swarm through the person of Kenneth Kussmann.

“No. But I think it believed the chances were good. So I was determined to prove it wrong. Determined not to fall for Jason. Resist being the pawn of a machine.”

She shook her head once again. “But Jason was so charming in so many ways—so warm, and funny, and respectful—that I fell for him just the same.”

“How hard?” said Kussmann. “If one of you had to die, would you sacrifice your life for his?”

Douglas E. Richards's books