The Apocalypse Contract

CHAPTER 53 - SYDNEY

"I am very pleased to find you in good health," the alien claimed.

Sydney crossed her arms and glared at him. "That's a bit hard to believe coming from the guy who stuck me on ship full of antimatter and sent me on a suicide mission."

"I assure you I was not happy with that decision. Indeed, it was my frequent disagreement with my own people that landed me in my current predicament."

"Wait a minute... You know this alien?" Gwyneth asked.

"Oh yeah, me and Jim go way back. Hey, where's your buddy Bill? I thought you two were a matched set?"

"Bill, as you call him, is by now well on his way to a different star system along with the rest of my people. I am here alone, in exile."

"Well, sucks to be you I guess, but I..." A sudden realization hit her. "Hey, shouldn't you be catatonic right now? I thought your people couldn't handle being alone?"

"Yes, normally that is true. The fact that I seem able to handle such isolation is part of the reason they saw fit to expel me. That, and my affinity and affection for the human species."

"Awe shucks, I'm touched," Sydney replied with a note of sarcasm. "So you went native, and they kicked you out. If you want any sympathy from me, you can help us figure out how to fight off those Harvester enemies of yours."

"I assure you, I would if I could, but my skills do not extend to the military variety. I'm more of a cultural anthropologist. My job was to study humanity to better guide our actions within your society."

"That is not an excuse," Roger insisted. "I'm an anthropologist, and I still did my part in the Great War. You need to step up now, or the humanity you claim affection for is doomed."

Jim's shoulders assumed a defeated slump. "I am doubtful I could be of any help. My thoughts are all muddled. You must understand, we do not learn in the same way as you. Our first great technology was the ability to directly alter our own neural cognitive structures. We learn by grafting memories and skills from others directly into our own minds. I adapted this method to learn about humanity, grafting human cognitive structures directly into my own. I became fluent in multiple languages. I understood your cultural nuances and motivations. But the more I did it, the more I drifted farther away from my own people. The more confused I became with your chaotic human drives." He looked up. "How do you people function like this?"

"It is not always easy," Gwyneth affirmed.

Roger reached up and grabbed the alien's arm. "I don't claim to fully understand what you are going through, but I understand well the desperate measures that war can drive one to. Now is not the time to give in to despair. We must fight until the last moment. While there is life there is hope."

"Yeah, what he said," Sydney agreed. "Your people built some sort of massive defense shield thingy. It would be a shame to give up without even trying. Come on... throw in with team human and help us fire up the space guns."

Jim looked from face to face. Somehow a look of sorrow seemed to hang on his expressionless face. "I wish I could help, I truly do. But at the bottom of this shaft and in every one like it across this planet, there are no 'space guns'. There are only giant reservoirs of antimatter that will explode when the enemy fleet draws near enough. Your planet is the bait in a trap my people began building more than a century ago."

Sydney collapsed to the tunnel floor.

"No weapons," she gasped. She looked at the faces staring down at her, realizing she was having a panic attack. Her gaze fixated on Jim. She pulled herself to her feet and grabbed him by his polo shirt. "You've fucking murdered us. Your people are committing genocide, and you just stand there saying you're sorry!" She realized she was yelling.