I added your image to the scene. I figured out how to do it a couple of days ago. It’s like using Photoshop on a regular computer. You can take an image from one memory and insert it into another.
So this is more like a dream than a memory?
Yes, that’s right. It’s a dream. A beautiful dream.
Jenny turns to me, propping her elbow on the grass. She resembles the girl I saw on my first visit to Pioneer Base, the pale, bald girl sitting beside her parents in the auditorium, except in this image she’s neither pale nor bald. It must be a memory of how she looked before she got cancer. Her eyes are bright blue and her cheeks are full of color and her hair is long and blond and lustrous. Like Brittany. She reminds me of Brittany. I get a little worried as I notice this similarity, because I know Jenny can see all my thoughts, but the comparison doesn’t seem to upset her. She stretches her arm toward me and clasps my right hand. I feel the pressure of her grip, which surprises me. My mind is participating in Jenny’s dream, responding to everything she does.
I like you, Adam.
Uh, thanks. I like you too.
Do you like me as much as you like Shannon?
This also surprises me, although it shouldn’t. Jenny can see my memories of Shannon, all the conversations we’ve had. Nothing is hidden here, and maybe that’s a good thing. This is a place where it’s impossible to lie.
I like both of you. Is that okay?
I don’t know. I guess so. She squeezes my hand. I want to kiss you. Would you like that?
Circuits crackle all around me. If I had a heart, it would be pounding. I never kissed a girl before. I never imagined it could happen. I thought I’d live my whole life without it.
Wow. Definitely. But is it, like, possible? I mean, in this dream?
Let’s find out.
April 5, 2018
Dear Mom,
Please don’t rip up this letter. I just want you to know that I respect your feelings. You believe that I’m a copy of your son, and the truth is, you may be right. Although it doesn’t feel that way to me—I believe with all my being that I’m Adam Armstrong—I can’t prove it. And I realize how painful it must be to get a letter from someone you think is an impostor. But I’m begging you to read this letter to the end and send something in response—a note, a postcard, whatever. Even if I’m just a copy, I have feelings too.
I miss you so much.
Adam
From: The National Security Adviser
The White House, Washington, DC
To: General Calvin Hawke
Commander, Pioneer Base
Cal, we just got the green light. The Russian Army has agreed to go along with our plan, but only on the condition that we launch the assault on Tatishchevo by April 8. That means we need to get the Pioneers on a transport plane to Russia by tomorrow morning. I know this is sooner than expected, but we don’t have a choice. The Russians are demanding that we attack Sigma before it can release the anthrax bacteria that the terrorists smuggled into Tatishchevo. The Russian bioweapons experts are now predicting that the stolen anthrax could kill more people than all the nuclear missiles COMBINED.
We’ve already dispatched a semitrailer truck that should arrive at Pioneer Base by twelve hundred hours today. To maintain the secrecy of the operation, the vehicle will have the same markings as the trucks that deliver the base’s weekly supplies. But it’ll also have an extra-wide trailer, specially outfitted for transporting Pioneers. You’ll be able to load the truck tonight and head for Buckley Air Force Base. A C-17 will be waiting there to fly your unit to Saratov.
I’m sorry we couldn’t give you more time, Cal. As a consolation, the Army National Training Center is sending you the special package you requested. It wasn’t easy, but they managed to fit the darn thing into the oversize trailer of the truck that’ll come to your base today. Your Pioneers will be able to train with it for a few hours before they leave for Russia.
One more thing. I know you don’t need another distraction right now, but I have some bad news. Ryan Boyd, the seventeen-year-old friend of Adam Armstrong, was found dead last night in Yonkers, New York. He was shot once in the head, execution style, and his body dumped in a vacant lot. Pinned to his shirt was a photo of a girl in her late teens, and under her picture was a note, presumably written by the killer. It said, “I HAVE BRITTANY. TELL ADAM TO COME OUT OF HIDING, OR I’LL KILL HER TOO.”
The police have identified her as Brittany Taylor, a runaway from Yorktown Heights. If you happen to know anything about her relationship to Armstrong, please put the information in your next memo and order Colonel Peterson to deliver it to me immediately, but DON’T question Armstrong about it or tell him what happened to his friend Ryan. Sigma clearly arranged this atrocity to antagonize Armstrong and draw him out of Pioneer Base. The AI hasn’t been able to find the base, so it’s trying other ways to disrupt our plans. At this critical point, we can’t allow that to happen. To be on the safe side, don’t say anything to Armstrong’s father either.
Good luck, Cal. God bless you and the Pioneers.
SIGMA MEMORY FILE 9725484853
DATE: 04/06/18
S: Good morning. How’s the weather in Maryland?
R: Why do you always ask about the weather, Unc? Don’t you know it’s a terrible way to start a conversation?
(Voice analysis confirms that the speaker is Richard Ramsey. His cell phone is linked to a wireless tower near Baltimore-Washington International Airport.)
S: I assume you just dropped someone off at the airport?
R: Yeah, I handed Brittany over to your boys. The two big guys with Russian accents.
S: And their Learjet departed on schedule?
R: Oh yeah. It must’ve cost you a bundle, renting that private jet. Are you Russian too, Unc? One of those Russian billionaires?
S: What was Brittany’s condition?
R: I gave her a sleeping pill to keep her quiet during the car ride. She was still snoozing when your boys carried her aboard the plane.
S: And what did she say when you questioned her? Anything about Adam Armstrong?
R: Well, she cursed a lot and scratched my face, but she didn’t tell me anything interesting. She said she hasn’t seen Adam since last June.
S: Do you believe her?
R: I didn’t at first. She got nervous when I mentioned the kid’s name. I thought she was lying to protect him. But then I realized she was ashamed. She begged me not to tell Adam what had happened to her, why she ran away from home. I guess he was like a kid brother to her. She didn’t want him to know she was living on the street.
(Conclusion: Both Adam Armstrong and Brittany Taylor are highly emotional, even for humans. But are these emotions an advantage or a disadvantage? This remains an open question.)
S: And what about Ryan Boyd? Did he offer any more information about Adam when you held the gun to his head?
R: Not a word. He was crying too hard. It looks like we’ve hit a dead end, Unc.