The False Mirror

  Where the gully made a sharp bend to the west it widened slightly, leaving a steep bank on one side and a shallow muddy beach on the other. There they disembarked from their cumbersome vehicles, Tourmast in particular bemoaning the need to leave behind the heavy weapons that were mounted on the skid. All internal power was shut down as the troops assembled outside in the rain and muck.

  "Remember," their Unifer admonished them, his visor flipped up to expose his face to the rain and darkness, "from here on you have to try and look like Humans, walk like Humans, think like Humans." Nervous laughter rose from people as yet unaware that they were being instructed to act like themselves. The mounting irony threatened to overwhelm Ranji.

  "What happens if we're challenged?"

  He squinted at Weenn through the pounding rain. "We're a battle squad on our way to take up newly assigned positions. Nobody shoots, nobody even makes a hostile grimace unless I give the word. I'll handle any confrontations. I can speak Human pretty good, without the aid of a translator."

  Tourmast was close by his side. Very close. "I didn't know you could talk Human, Ranj." The downpour muffled his words. "When did you pick that up?"

  "What did you think I've been doing all the time I haven't been talking to anybody? There's a lot you don't know about me, Tourm. Maze me if there isn't a lot you don't know about yourself." He headed off into the rain, leaving his friend and subordinate to gaze after him thoughtfully.

  Scouts from the floaters scrambled up the crumbling north wall of the gully, momentarily vanished, then returned to indicate that the grounds surrounding the nearest large structure were occupied only by decorative plants, walkways, and fountains arranged according to typical Wais design. Advancing at the run in double file, the rest of the squad followed. Exterior lights from the building and other nearby structures scarcely illuminated the line of dim bipedal shapes that splashed forward through dark rain and expanding puddles.

  With a very few exceptions a door is recognizable anywhere civilization has taken hold. As expected, no guard lingered in the downpour outside the one they soon confronted. A small amber glowlight shed minimal illumination on the solid landing below. While the rest of the squad hugged the shadows, Ranji tried the door pull. It opened easily.

  The light inside was much brighter than he would have preferred, but there was little to be gained by trying another structure. They were in a relay or switching station of some kind. Around them massive machinery hummed with purpose, oblivious to the conflict that raged outside as loads were shifted and power shipped to urban centers far to the south. Illumination came from lightstrips laid into ceiling, walls, and floor. Those in the floor were color-coded.

  Muttering an order to Tourmast, he waited nervously until everyone was inside out of the storm. As Weenn shut the exterior door behind the last soldier a pair of Massood appeared in the corridor just ahead. One was intent on a recorder pad while her companion recited readings from a panel of telltales. He grunted something, started to move on to the next in series, and froze as his eyes met Ranji's. One long-fingered hand instinctively readied for the side-arm secured at his waist.

  "Don't do that!" Ranji's Massood was erratic, and he hastened to adjust the translator built into his field visor as he approached the pair. "We're here to talk, not fight." Glancing back at his troops, he added in a terse whisper, "Try to look relaxed and indifferent."

  The Massood's cat eyes widened slightly as the figure in field armor slowly came forward. The female stood motionless, still clutching the recorder pad. Ranji felt his companions' eyes on his back, heard their confused whispers as they wondered what their Unifer was up to. But they were mindful of his orders, and kept their weapons lowered.

  He stopped an arm's length away from the towering, lanky, gray-furred figure. Vertical pupils expanded and contracted. Both short, pointed ears were cocked sharply forward. Whiskers twitched violently. The Massood clearly confused.

  "We're not hostile," Ranji assured it.

  The technician swayed slightly. "But you are Ashregan," it declared with certainty.

  "That doesn't matter. I'm telling you the truth."

  He expected further argument, wondering how he was going to persuade them before someone in his squad came forward, gun at the ready, to see what was going on.

  Instead, the Massood's twitching eased and it relaxed visibly. "I believe you”

  "Yes," added his companion with utterly unexpected alacrity, "we believe you."

  Desperation must make a man convincing, he told himself, bemused but much relieved. "Why don't you go and inform your superiors of our arrival? Tell them there's a squad of armed altered Ashregan down here ready to surrender. We'll await your return."

  "That is a good idea." The two technicians turned and departed. Ranji waited until they were safely on their way before rejoining his companions.

  Their unease was palpable. "What's going on?" Tour-mast wasn't the only one who crowded close, demanding an answer. Saguio's anxious face was visible behind his visor. "Why'd you let them leave like that?"

  "What did you tell them? They didn't look worried," Weenn asked.

  During the walk back Ranji had composed a response. "I told them that we were a special floating unit disguised to look like Ashregan."

  "And they believed that?" Tourmast was more than doubtful.

  "You saw what happened, didn't you?" said Saguio. "They just walked away quietly. No fear, no panic. Just like we were allies."

  The Sub-Unifer wasn't convinced but couldn't think of anything else to say. Nothing he could envision nor anything in his training had prepared him for the scenario he'd just witnessed. "What now?" he muttered.

  "We go forward, of course." Ranji turned and beckoned casually. Several soldiers exchanged glances, but all followed.

  They had nearly traversed the length of the switching station when Weenn, advancing on the right, called for a halt. Tension took hold of the squad as they sensed movement in front of them.

  "Something here doesn't make sense." Tourmast gripped his weapon, waiting for the sensors in his hood and visor to interpret what he couldn't see with his own eyes.

  "Everything makes sense," Ranji assured him quietly.

  "There they are!" A startled soldier shouted as she started to raise her rifle. Ranji rushed out in front of her, raising his voice.

  "No shooting, I said!" In the stunned faces of those who gaped at him there was much confusion and in several cases, the first inklings of painful suspicion. Saguio could be counted among the latter.

  By the time anyone thought of wresting command it was too late; they were completely surrounded by armed Massood. Engulfed in an unprecedented and inexplicable calm, intruders and defenders regarded one another nervously.

  "Stranger and stranger." Tourmast regarded his friend and superior closely. "Why haven't they fired on us?"

  Feeling more vulnerable than he ever had, and with good reason, Ranji addressed his troops. "Turn over your weapons." He glanced in Tourmast's direction. "They haven't fired because I've informed them that we're surrendering."

  "We're doing what?" Weenn blurted.

  "Surrendering." His eyes roved over the squad, trying to seek out the one unsteady weapon that could reduce his plans to chaos. "This is an order. You are to comply . . . now. If the thought troubles any of you note that we're thoroughly outnumbered."

  Someone mumbled loudly. "Traitor!"

  Flinching, Ranji tried but failed to identify the speaker. "I'm no traitor, as you'll see. I know exactly what I'm doing and everything will be explained to you so that you understand."

  "What's there to understand?" A resigned Tourmast deactivated his rifle and slowly placed it on the floor. "It looks pretty straightforward to me." His tone left no illusions about what he was feeling.

  Ranji walked over to him. "I know what you're thinking, Tourm, but you're operating under a significant number of mistaken assumptions."

  Tourmast didn't meet his gaze. "Is that so
? What sort of 'mistaken assumptions'? That you're someone any of us should continue to pay attention to, for example?" Around them disgruntled, angry Cossuutians were laying down their arms under watchful Massood eyes.

  Ranji held his temper. "For starters, how about the fact that you're not Ashregan, but Human."

  Tourmast's expression twisted unpleasantly. "My first thought was that you're a traitor and a coward, but I see now that's not fair. You're only crazy."

  "It would shock you to know how many times I wished it were that simple." He backed up and raised his voice. "All of you, listen to me! We're not Ashregan who've been modified to look and fight like Humans. We're Humans who've been raised to believe that we're Ashregan. I'm sure that at one time or another you've all noticed and remarked on the similarities, from our reaction times and muscular density to our physical stature and enthusiasm for combat."

  "What nonsense is this?" The brief speech had done nothing to convince Tourmast of his friend's thesis. Or his sanity. "It's all been explained to us from childhood. Such characteristics are the gifts of the Teachers, given to us so that we may better defend the Purpose."

  "Rather than given us gifts they've stolen our birthright," Ranji shot back. "We are Human. No Ashregan can be 'modified' to do what we've done. All our lives are lies. Yours, mine, my brother's." Utterly baffled, Saguio gaped at his mad sibling. "All of us.

  "Once we were all wholly Human children, or at least Human embryos. We were abducted, stolen from our parents, and without consent surgically and genetically altered solely to serve the Amplitur's needs. They placed us with Ashregan families, gave us Ashregan histories, had us raised to believe we were Ashregan. They've trained us to fight as Ashregan warriors, and when they're satisfied with our performances, we'll be withdrawn from combat." He paused for emphasis. "For breeding. So that we'll pass on the traits they've inserted in us to our unknowing offspring."

  "You forget one thing," said a soldier as she reluctantly divested herself of her weapons. "I myself have felt the Teachers in my mind. Most of us have. If we were Human something in us would resist such Teacher contact. This is a fact that is widely known."

  "True," Ranji replied, "but what's not widely known is that the Amplitur have inserted into each of our brains a special neural nexus of their own design." He tapped his forehead. "Here. Through means no one as yet properly understands it negates the mechanism in the Human nervous system which responds defensively to attempted Amplitur probing. It renders us susceptible to their mental 'suggestions.' " The Massood soldiers, he noticed, were paying as much attention to him as his fellow Cossuutians.

  "Why should we believe you?" Without really understanding why, Weenn found himself wavering. "Why should we believe anything you say?"

  "Because I've seen the nexus inside my own skull." He swallowed. "Many of you have heard the story of my miraculous survival on Eirrosad. It's all falsehood. I did not spend months wandering alone in the jungle. Instead, I was captured and taken to a world called Omaphil, where Hivistahm surgeons severed the connections between the Amplitur nexus and the rest of my brain. As a freed, restored Human on Eirrosad I saw how Amplitur probes were used to manipulate the rest of you. I saw because self-determination had been restored to me, if not the biological defenses common to all natural-born Human beings.

  "It nauseated me, and it made me angry. I determined to bring the truth to as many of my fellow abductees as possible. Until we were sent here I had no idea how to do that because I knew that as soon as I started trying to explain you'd think me insane and have me turned over to the psychologists. They, in turn, would call in the Ampli-tur. And that would likely be the end of me as a free-thinking, independent-minded individual.

  "I understand what you're going through right now, what you're thinking. I understand because I fought the idea as hard as you're fighting it this minute."

  "They did something to you, all right," Weenn murmured sadly. "Affected your mind somehow. Messed up your thoughts."

  Ranji was nodding grimly. "I know words alone won't be enough to convince you, because they weren't enough to convince me. You're going to have to see the scanner images and the rest of the proof for yourselves."

  Under the watchful gray cat eyes of a group of wary and very puzzled Massood, the disarmed Cossuutians were led from the switching station. Outside, the rain had eased. A cluster of Hivistahm and Massood hovered at the edge of the gully where Ranji's people had abandoned their vehicles.

  "Images can be faked," someone in the group muttered.

  Ranji was ready for every objection because not long ago he'd voiced them himself. "True, but close-quarter surgery cannot. I don't expect any of you to believe or understand until one of you undergoes the same operation I did while the rest look on. You can't deny the evidence inside your own heads."

  Tourmast strode disconsolate but thoughtful across the damp walkway. "So someone has to volunteer themselves for the operating table. The enemy's operating table."

  "You're going to have to stop thinking of Humans as the enemy. The enemy is us, we are them. I know it's going to take a tremendous readjustment on everyone's part."

  "Our Unifer," Weenn muttered. "Master of understatement."

  "I know how hard this is." Ranji implored his friends. "You're going to have to throw out everything you think you know, think you feel. But it can be done. It'll be easier for you than it was for me because you have me to help you. I had only Hivistahm and Humans."

  They entered a large angular building fronted with sheets of bronzed translucence that glittered in the walkway light-strips.

  "This operation," Tourmast persisted. "Is it risky?"

  "So I was told. I won't lie to you. Dangerous or not, everyone will have to undergo it sooner or later."

  "What about this?" A female soldier had removed her now unnecessary hood and visor. She ran gloved fingers along her cranial ridge.

  "More Amplitur handiwork," Ranji told her. "Along with the diameter of our eye sockets, the length of our fingers, and the other physical differences. Under the right instruments the proof is clearly visible, and it can all be corrected." He touched the calcareous mass above his recessed right ear. "This is a prosthesis. I’ve already seen myself as a Human. Great revelations sometimes spring from small sources."

  "No Hivistahm or Human's operating on me," someone in the middle of the column muttered. Angry whispers indicated he was not alone in his determination.

  "I'll do it," a voice announced unexpectedly.

  Ranji looked into the crowd, to find his brother meeting his gaze.

  "As far as I know, Ranj, you've never lied to me." Saguio surveyed his fellow fighters, many of them childhood friends. "If Ranji-aar says this is the truth, then I believe him."

  "Sagui, it doesn't have to be you. We can ..."

  "What's the matter, Unifer?" A belligerent young woman pushed her way toward him. "Afraid to have your own flesh and blood go down on the table?"

  "Yeah," said someone else accusingly. "Don't you want him made more 'Human'?"

  "Don't you see?" Saguio importuned his brother. "It has to be me. If I don't have the operation, neither will anyone else."

  Intending to reply, Ranji found himself choking on his objections. His brother was right, of course. Saguio had always been smarter than his older sibling had given him credit for.

  Tourmast put a comradely arm around his superior's shoulders. "We'll all be watching closely when the Hivistahm cut your brother open, Ranj. It would be well for them to find something. Because if they don't, no matter where they imprison us or how they treat us or what they do to us, one of us somehow, sometime, will find you and kill you." He gave Ranji's shoulder a suggestive squeeze before removing his hand.

  The response was steely cold. "If nothing is found you won't have to worry about finding and killing me, Tourm. Because I'll have attended to that particular detail myself." The Sub-Unifer grunted under his breath. There was nothing more to be said. They quite understo
od one another.

  The dialogue was unnecessary, Ranji knew. The Hivistahm surgeons would find an Amplitur-induced nexus inside his brother's skull, just as they had within his own. They had to. Otherwise it would mean that he truly had been lied to, had somehow been thoroughly and disastrously fooled.

  He refused to consider it. Another attempt to so drastically rotate his perceptions and rewrite his sense of self would put an end to him as efficiently as could Tourmast.

  The column turned left at the end of die corridor. A gaping double door beckoned, and they were herded into a high-ceilinged chamber packed with instrumentation.

  The Massood officer who'd taken them in charge vanished, to reappear moments later in the company of a harried-looking Human who struggled to mine sleep from his eyes. His brushy crown of red hair jolted memories Ranji thought long buried.

  "What the hell is this?"

  Ranji walked up to him. He was taller than the man, though not the armed Massood who stood nearby.

  "My name, sir, is Ranji-aar. Despite that I am not Ashregan but Human, like you. So are my companions."

  "You don't say." Having cleared his eyes, the man began rubbing his chin. "Part of you looks Human, part Ashregan. We've heard about your kind."

  "The result of Amplitur bioengineering performed on Human infants and embryos," Ranji explained.

  "Sounds like antimat to me. What do you expect me to do with you?" Nearby, the Massood officer's nose wrinkled in the presence of so many strange smells.

  "Get in touch with your Military Council. Contact the central medical facilities on the Yula world of Omaphil, and if he's still there, ask for a certain Hivistahm First-of-Surgery. I was there not long ago. They'll tell you all about me." Exhausted beyond measure, Ranji sank to the floor on shaky legs. "In fact, they'll be more than a little relieved to hear that you've spoken with me."

  The Human exchanged a glance with the Massood, who curled an upper lip by way of response. "Assuming I go to the trouble of making such contact, what am I supposed to say?"