Holobrain: The Evolved, #5

By Richard Quarry

As the Evolved invaders conquer more and more of Peregrine space, Arvada Sattar and Sahan Kotori go on fighting their own war in defiance of Naval Command. While Arvada develops tactics for ambushing the enemy from deeper in the sun than anyone thought a starship could survive, Sahan carries on his hazardous mental penetrations of the enemy holobrain.

When the Viveca becomes trapped inside a singularity alongside a much more powerful Evolved ship, Arvada leads the crew in hand-to-hand fighting against the enemy's Grinder infantry. But heavily outnumbered, only one hope remains. Sahan must enter the enemy holobrain and engage the Evolved Captain in a brutal psychological combat that plunges them both into the holobrain's dread "Terror Barrier."

But like a black hole, what enters the Terror Barrier can never escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Quarry
• Release date: May 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201071424

Book preview

1

"When I brought you to the Eustella, said Captain Arvada Sattar, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, it was to get a new leg, not a new face."

Snuggled in several pillows, Sahan Kotori snapped his fingers in enlightenment. Damn! I knew it was one or the other. Sorry ‘bout that.

I can’t let you out my sight for a minute, can I?

He watched Arvada frown at the cramped sick-bay room, with its décor of white bedding, chromed pipes, hulking black machines with impenetrable green readings on their impassive faces, and walls of a shade close as technology could make them to invisible. Like it was his fault.

Hey, it was her ship. The fast cruiser Viveca, with which she had, with a characteristic indifference to reality, attacked the Grinder-held habitat Eustella. And taken it, not without great good luck, a large proportion of it in the form of him.

She’d taken some casualties, too. Most of them were being treated on the habitat, since room aboard the cruiser, like all ships, was always at a premium.

She wanted Sahan, though, where she could keep an eye on him.

He raised the angle of the bed to be more on a level with her accusatory eyes. Whose deep golden-brown tone always reminded him of maple syrup. Dripping over the warm, perfectly done light brown pancakes of her cheeks. Always made him want to kiss her eyes, her face, and areas he could only dream of.

Verboten.

As the bed hummed up, the pillows slid down, and his butt did the same. He wriggled himself back into position.

It hurt. Everything hurt. Mentally smothering the auto-destruct mechanism aboard the Eustella, wrestling hand-to-hand or rather mind-to-mind with the holobrain, had induced something like an epileptic seizure throughout his body. Now medication subdued the fits, but in the aftermath his organs, bones, fascia, ligaments and whatever else could be dislodged were still scraped raw and refused to quit vibrating, at least to his perception. His prosthetic leg had also torn partway loose of its moorings. New muscle sensors were being being implanted in his thigh.

And he was still distracted by red lights flashing intermittently inside his skull.

I’ll check out the return policy on the face, he told Arvada. Meanwhile, how do you like it?

She shrugged. It’s not too much worse than the old one. A little Frankenstein-ish around the edges. And that lip … what did they use, a jackhammer? But then, I heard it was a rush job. At gunpoint, in fact. No point in asking if it’s true. That is just so you.

The fast cruiser had only two such single med rooms, and technically they were reserved for those suffering from some disease either highly contagious or as yet unidentified. As to the maze of machinery overflowing like a Victorian sitting-room, Sahan found it cozy. To him, space was home, mechanicals the staff of life. Anything with actual earth and vegetation and open space reminded him of his childhood. Not favorably.

Besides the physical symptoms, he still experienced nightmares and occasional panic attacks, mostly centered around the remembrance of having his mind pulled apart strand by strand in the holobrain. But hell, that stuff was only in your head. No point looking for sympathy from Arvada. She didn’t pay him to be fragile.

When she first saw him aboard the Eustella — so he’d been told; Sahan remembered nothing between being riven by his mental combat with the rockets of the auto-destruct and waking in sick bay — Arvada took one look and ordered him brought straight here. And kept in isolation, all visitors to be approved by her, and monitored.

Jealous of Elva? The thought was rich in amusement value, less so in credibility. It wasn’t like he was going to make love to Elva or anyone else with his insides sloshing around this way. Or that Arvada would give a damn if he did.

More likely, Sahan being the only living Peregrine ever to penetrate the holobrain (well, there was Hypatia Wren, but whether or not she qualified as living was somewhat abstruse) Arvada wanted to limit whatever knowledge he acquired there to the two of them. Information was power, and she’d guard it like a dragon resting on its gold.

I heard, he told her, that you committed mutiny. Again.

She looked puzzled. "Again? Last time, that was you. The Mettalise. You murdered her Captain. Ring a bell? This is my first."

"Many happy returns. But what about when the fleet ordered you to report with the Mettalise for transport duty and you attacked the Enodia instead? Does that ring any bells?"

Oh, that. The transmission was garbled.

"I see you also got the Bhimadevi and the Anata to attack the Eustella along with you."

Their Captains wanted a fight. Who was I to disappoint them? But enough about me. I’m hearing all kinds of rumors about you and the holobrain. Most people here don’t believe them. Unfortunately, I do.

Sahan’s chest ached. For the hundred thousandth time he told himself Arvada was not beautiful. Nor was she, not really. Not the way you see a beautiful woman and know she is consensually, universally, culturally, inarguably beautiful, even if her looks leave you personally cold.

Though a handsome woman, Arvada could make no such claim to beauty. Except to Sahan. The sight of her au lait skin, rounded face, black hair, and oval honey eyes produced a longing that brought him to the edge of despair. And many times over the years, beyond.

He had hoped his affair with Elva might establish some distance between Arvada and his heart. He’d come awfully close to loving Elva. Not as close, he could see now, as he thought at the time. But he’d treasured her, trusted her, and found in her a much-needed source of strength when crisis pressed at him from all sides. If he wanted someone to share his life with, Elva was a much more likely possibility to provide him with peace and warmth.

Unfortunately, peace and warmth didn’t seem to be his thing.

Now Arvada sat on edge of his bed, and he knew any thoughts of anyone else, any life else, had been nothing but apparitions.

I mucked about some in the holobrain, he confirmed.

Arvada sighed heavily. These torn fascia of yours. Will they hurt if I squeeze them?

Yeah, some.

Then why not give me a straight answer before I give in to my dark side? Which is always front and center where you’re concerned.

He knew she was only partially joking. Very partially.

Mostly I tried to dodge the Evolved. They can really get into your head. It was Hypatia who saved me.

Arvada rolled her eyes. "Hypatia Wren. The psycho who killed her crewmates during the Geniah expedition. Then meditated her way into a coma. Yeah, I can see where she’d be your type. The two of you buddies now? Or something more?"

Jealous? He couldn’t resist.

A little, she acknowledged, surprising him. I’d prefer you fought for me rather than Hypatia Wren. But needs must.

She stared off at the nondescript walls for a moment. "When we invaded the Eustella—"

I’ve been told you led the storming party yourself. Just couldn’t resist, huh?

If you don’t like me leading storming parties, then you shouldn’t go around losing your legs and face and God knows what else, should you?

Line of duty. Did you enjoy yourself?

Arvada considered. On the whole, yes. The killing Grinders part. Quite exhilarating. I’m almost as good as you were. Not quite. Not yet. The past tense did not escape him. Reading the casualty reports afterward, though, and visiting the wounded in hospital or sick bay, that’s hard. Sahan….

She sighed, changing gears. "What happened aboard the Enodia … I am so sorry. You and the Riggers, that was a terrible thing. But don’t take it all on yourself. I was the one who ordered the attack."

But I’m the one they still call out to, he told her. He hadn’t meant to; it just came out.

Arvada sat very still. You mean, she said at last, "you hear them?"

"Yes. At times. It was the Riggers who first led me into the holobrain. I kept seeing their bodies, all torn to pieces. And hearing them call Why? He shuddered. That hurt too. And then somehow, I was there. No, not somehow. Their death-terror, it found its way into the holobrain. A separate section of it like a sort of, well, hell."

And their cries took you there?

Sahan couldn’t answer. Just couldn’t quite get control of himself.

Arvada placed her hand, lightly, on his knee. Oh Sahan.

There’s more to it than that, he said, forcing the words out before emotion could choke them off. But I don’t understand it all myself.

And the voices. Are they gone now?

His chest had tightened up so much he had to force the breath in. Fighting against that tension hurt his ribs, his shoulders, his neck, his eyes.

Mostly, he told her at last.

She closed her eyes. As her hand squeezed tighter on his leg, her lips compressed.

Hey, he said, not wanting Arvada to see him as weak. It’s okay. I mean, we’re at war. Consider this a recon.

Now the words came pouring out of him, unstoppable. The Riggers, the Marines, somehow their death-cries got incorporated into something Hypatia calls the Terror Barrier. See, in the last few milliseconds of life a different, deeper kind of fear takes over. Something pre-human. Primordial. That’s why the Grinders’ heads blow up. We thought it was to keep us from studying their brains. No. It’s to keep their final terror from penetrating into and deepening the barrier between the living Evolved and the Group Mind.

This is all very weird, Arvada said uneasily.

He still couldn’t stop himself. The, call them the living Evolved, are more or less conventional human beings. Except that their sensations, memories, their state of consciousness, probably, I don’t know, is recorded throughout their lives. This forms a critical mass which they hope will at dying lead them to be … incorporated? translated? reborn? … something, anyway, into a form of collective consciousness within the Master Holobrain. Virtual immortality.

Arvada didn’t move, but her squeezing lips started to tremble with tension.

Only they’ve got to pass this Terror Barrier first. If as they die that last microsecond of existential fear takes over their mind, then that part of the holobrain will seize them to it. It’s like that too is a form of collective consciousness. Built up of different sensations, briefer, but incredibly intense. The holobrain can contain it, but not eliminate it. The living Evolved need the Group Mind to usher them past. Usually they succeed. But not necessarily always. He paused to control his breath. That Evolved Captain I killed — or whatever — when we took his ship? That’s where he ended up. I drove him there. It was … pretty scary, really. He tried to drag me down with him, but— But what? Sahan had little idea, and the memory was like staring straight into the sun.

Arvada bit off a soft moan. I warned you. I pleaded with you not to try to enter the holobrain. Now here you lie all torn up and half mad— To his utter astonishment, she turned away, hand to her throat. It took several deep breaths before she could talk again.

Before we stormed the Hub, she said evenly, though avoiding his eyes, "we detected a system of rockets mounted on the inner hull of the upper torus. Hardened so that the force of fire needed to take them out would likely breach the hull. They were de-coordinating the spins of the upper and lower toruses. I knew the Evolved might have some sort of auto-destruct. I was hoping otherwise, but they did it at the Enodia, didn’t they? My hope was to take the Viveca straight in, storm the Hub, and disable the auto-destruct from there before it could accomplish its purpose."

You never did have any sense.

"That’s ‘you never did have any sense, SIR.’ The Viveca got a little shaken up on the way in, but nothing we couldn’t handle."

"The Evolved didn’t fit either the Eustella or the Enodia with significant anti-ship weapons, Sahan stated. Their strategy was to permit us to gain entry, then destroy the habitat and blame it on our disruption."

Yes. That’s what gave me reason to think we might be able to break into the Hub before the effects of the auto-destruct became irreversible. Still, I debated a long time before ordering the attack. I mean, eight thousand people?

Her manner, solemn enough to begin with, turned severe. "Listen up. I’m giving you a direct order. Do not laugh. Repeat, do not laugh. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Commander?"

Loud and clear, Captain. Sahan twisted his lips together, stifling the giggle already starting to build. Arvada getting serious was like fish in a barrel.

One factor alone decided me. I — is that a laugh I see you stifling? You’re bulging like a squirrel with its mouth full of nuts.

No, Sir. Sahan reached for a corner of the blanket to have it ready to stuff into his mouth when his self-control broke down.

I believed you were alive.

Humor fled.

There was, she said, "some evidence. If the Evolved had taken you, surely they would have been crowing over it. So I presumed you were still free, somewhere aboard the Eustella. And I know this sounds crazy, and if you laugh I swear I am going give those torn fascia you’re whining about something to really get your attention. But I thought — I believed, Sahan, I truly believed — that if you were alive, you would, that is, there was some chance, that you would find some way to disable the auto-destruct."

He was incredulous. Why?

Why do you think? she cried. Because you are Sahan Kotori, and weird beyond the ability of science to measure. And because — she had to pause for breath — because that is what I needed you to do. And whenever before I’ve needed you to do something, you did it. Somehow.

She twisted her face away, slapping at his reaching hand. Her cheeks bulged as the corners of her mouth compressed.

Sahan wasn’t laughing. He was astonished. This was just plain outré. Of course he’d always known that Arvada valued him. Even when she had other lovers, in the big things she’d still been closer to Sahan than anyone else. But early on in their partnership, for that’s what it was, she’d deployed a minefield between them and maintained it diligently.

Now anyone looking on might think Arvada actually cared for him. More than cared. Maybe … maybe….

His ribs felt like they were being yanked out one by one. He couldn’t spare the attention to care.

Don’t say it. You’ve told yourself that before, and all it got you was even deeper heartache and hidden tears.

So he didn’t.

Once in the holobrain, he said instead, it was Hypatia Wren who protected me from the Evolved. And guided me.

Guided you where? Arvada’s right hand worked the bedsheet nervously.

He thought of telling her about the wraith-like Christian spirits from the Stephen Hawking, searching in vain for their lost God. But that carried implications he was not even close to understanding.

Hypatia guided me to the rockets. The auto-destruct system. To me they looked like bright red lozenges shooting off sparks. Hypatia told me to smother them. Which I guess I did.

He expected outright disbelief. Instead Arvada nodded quietly. And that’s how you ended up like this. She glanced at his form beneath the blankets. I’m betting it wasn’t easy.

He shook his head, winced at the sudden screwdriver wedging its way between his neck vertebrae. Not that easy, no.

I’m betting it took a level of concentration no one else could attain. That’s always been your party trick. That, and sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. She released the section of bedsheet she’d been kneading, began to smooth it over. Did it hurt much? I mean, up here? She tapped her temple.

Yes. He didn’t say how when his will threatened to break, it was her name he called upon to give him courage.

"You’re scaring me, Sahan. To think you’ve actually been there. And returned, which is its own special class of scary. Dammit, I knew the holobrain was dangerous. I warned you. Remember? But nothing anyone says has ever made the slightest impression on you. Especially me."

That’s not entirely true.

Arvada scoffed, dismissing his pretense of humility. What you’re telling me now … I mean, we’re talking different dimensions here, aren’t we?

Probably. It’s not like I understand that aspect. The Group Mind, Immortality, all that.

But you will go back. I can see it in your face. And every time you do, there’s a good chance you’ll never come out again. Like Hypatia Wren. Isn’t there?

Every time one of us goes into battle, there’s a good chance we won’t come out. This isn’t any different.

"At least if I lose you in battle I’ll know what dead means!" she cried. She squeezed shut her eyes and lips.

Let me say I love you, Sahan urged silently. You’ve always known, but the day we left the Academy you ordered me never to say it again. And that order, at least, I have never disobeyed. But please, let me say it now. You needn’t say anything in return. Not one word. Just let me get out what’s always been bursting inside me.

Opening her eyes, Arvada rubbed the back of her neck with her fingers.

Arvada….

I still think, she said, silencing him with the sardonic expression once more set in concrete across her face, you were lucky the Evolved didn’t suck your brains out with a straw.

They tried. Hypatia saved me.

"Oh, ‘Hypatia.’ And just what else did you and ghostly, ghastly Hypatia get up to in this holobrain?"

She wanted a return to normality. And who was he to tell her no? Like the Dainichi used to say, it doesn’t matter whether the hammer hits your thumb or your thumb hits the hammer. It’s not the hammer going to yell ‘ouch!’

So