The message on their communications terminal was cryptic: just an address, nothing more. Bud stared at the glowing text, tail twitching.
“It must be from Patricia,” he said, glancing at Laz. “Where we're supposed to meet her.”
Laz nodded absently, yawning as he shuffled back towards his workbench. “Fascinating. Did you know that the first interplanetary message was sent using a repurposed mining laser?”
Bud sighed, watching as his owner began fiddling with test tubes and beakers. “Lazarus, we don’t have time for this. We need to go.”
“Science waits for no man, Bud,” Laz replied, peering intently at a bubbling yellow liquid, the pupil of his green eye dilating as his optical implant zoomed in. “Or dog, for that matter.”
Frustration gnawed at Bud’s insides. Every moment they delayed was another moment Patricia might change her mind, another moment they might lose their chance at answers. But he knew from long experience that rushing Laz would only make him more obstinate.
After what felt like an eternity, Laz finally set down his equipment. “All right, then. Shall we?”
The address led them to the old campus of Gale City College. Bud’s paws clicked against cracked pavement as they made their way through the abandoned grounds. Weeds pushed through fissures in the sidewalk, shattered glass from the broken windows of abandoned lecture halls glinting in the predawn glow.
“You used to teach here, didn’t you?” Bud asked, trying to jog Laz’s memory.
Laz’s brow furrowed. “Did I? Odd, I don’t recall.”
Bud whined but didn’t reply. How much was still locked away in that mind of his and how much had been lost forever in those chaotic moments during the Purge? He pushed the thought aside as they approached their destination: the public observatory, one of the few buildings on campus still operational.
As if on cue, the sky opened up. Fat droplets of artificially generated rain pelted down, quickly soaking through Bud’s fur.
“Oh, for the love of—” Bud grumbled, shaking himself. “I thought they fixed the weather schedule last week.”
Laz chuckled. “Did you know that on Old Earth, people used to do rain dances to influence the weather?”
“Fascinating,” Bud muttered, picking up his pace.
As they neared the observatory, the first hints of dawn began to paint the Martian sky. The biodome’s transparent panels filtered the light, casting everything in a pale, pinkish glow. Bud’s gaze was drawn upward, to the vast expanse above them, a gaping void that dominated the sky. A cosmic reminder of all that had been lost.
The observatory’s main entrance was locked, but a side door leading to the primary telescope’s control room stood ajar, the area around its lock charred and dented. Bud’s hackles rose instinctively.
“Careful,” he warned as Laz pushed the door open wider. If Laz heard he didn’t show it, entering without hesitation.
They climbed a winding staircase, their wet, slapping footsteps echoing in the empty building. At the top, they found Patricia. She stood on a circular platform, surrounded by computer equipment and blinking lights. Her back was to them as she peered into the massive telescope.
“I was never permitted in here before the Purge,” she said without turning her attention from the telescope.
There didn’t seem to be anything to say in response, so Bud just waited. Eventually, Laz spoke.
“Do you ever wonder what it was like? Being on Earth when it fell into the black hole?”
Bud looked up at his owner. That was the sort of question he’d have asked before all the damage he’d suffered during the Purge. But if the question startled Patricia, she gave no sign.
“It wouldn’t have been like anything,” she said, turning. “Everyone on the planet was crushed instaneously by the gravitational forces.”
Laz tilted his head. He seemed on the verge of speaking, but then gazed up at the sky visible through the dome's open panels, eyes losing some of their lucidity. "Kugelblitz," he said.
The malleable area above Patricia’s optical sensors furrowed. She looked to Bud for an explanation.
"Don't look at me," Bud said, bobbing his head in the best approximation of a shrug his anatomy would allow. He had to modulate his LANG processor’s frequency so Patricia could hear him. "He says inexplicable things all the time."
Inwardly, though, Bud couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. Kugelblitz – that was the type of black hole that had consumed Old Earth. Laz had been a biologist, but physics had always been a hobby of his before the Purge. His brilliance wasn't entirely lost, even if it only emerged in unpredictable outbursts. It was also satisfying to see that Patricia didn’t know everything.
The android shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. "Have you made your choice, Lazarus?"
Bud bristled. Why did she keep acting like this was Laz's decision alone? As if Bud were just some pet, not an equal partner in this endeavor.
Before he could voice his irritation, Laz broke into a wide smile. "We'd be delighted to help, my dear."
Patricia seemed taken aback by Laz's enthusiasm, her composure slipping for just a moment. She returned his smile hesitantly before shaking her head, as if to clear it. Bud was glad. He had nothing against androids, but the expression looked unnatural on her face. Few androids before the Purge had been equipped with the mechanics needed for facial expressions, part of the FOG’s legislative efforts to keep the line between man and machine as bright as possible. Turning away, Patricia knelt beside a knapsack on the floor.
"Take these," she said, producing a laminated security pass and a small tablet computer, "and read up."
Laz accepted the items without comment, still beaming at Patricia. Bud, however, supplied enough scrutiny for the both of them. He peered at the security pass.
"Thomas Eichorn? Who's that?"
Patricia's expression remained neutral. "He was scheduled to be a new biology instructor at the Academy. Unfortunately, he'll no longer be making it."
Bud's eyes widened as understanding dawned, a growl beginning at the back of his throat. "No way, Laz. She wants you to sneak into the Academy."
"You've evaded detection for this long," Patricia replied coolly. "I'm sure you'll manage."
Bud cursed himself for letting Patricia hear him. It had been so long since he’d had to worry about anyone other than Laz understanding what he said.
"Sure, by remaining inconspicuous,” he said to her, failing to keep the exasperation from his tone. “Have you heard how Lazarus talks? You expect him to snoop around restricted areas of the Academy and remain undetected?"
"Of course not." Patricia's lips curved in a slight smile. "You'll do the snooping."
If she’d been anyone else, Bud would have bitten her. But he so desperately wanted the answers she claimed to have. "Have you forgotten that I can't go more than fifty feet from Lazarus without his neural net going out of range?"
Patricia reached into her pocket, producing a small microchip attached to a plug. "Not when he has this." She turned to Lazarus, her voice softening. "May I?"
"Absolutely not!" Bud barked, alarm coursing through him.
But Laz was already nodding, that same inexplicable smile still plastered across his face. "Of course, my dear."
Bud watched in horror as Patricia approached Laz, the chip glinting in her hand. Everything in him screamed to intervene, to protect his friend. But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered a traitorous thought: What if this was their only chance?
As Patricia raised the chip towards Laz's temple, Bud found himself frozen, caught between fear and desperate hope. He remained still as Patricia gently pulled back one of Lazarus's earlobes, revealing an empty socket, a data port that accessed the cybernetic portion of his brain. With practiced precision, she plugged the implant into place.
The effect was instantaneous. Bud yelped, his paw flying to his face as if struck. Simultaneously, Laz staggered backward, his hand gripping the railing of the viewing platform for support.
Bud's mind raced, his neural pathways lighting up like a circuit board gone haywire. He made a series of rapid adjustments, desperately trying to maintain the delicate balance between his consciousness and Laz’s. It felt like trying to juggle while riding a unicycle on a tightrope.
Laz, recovering his balance, placed a hand on Bud's head, gently scratching. Patricia watched with surprised interest, her android brows arching. For several tense moments, the only sound was Bud's labored breathing.
Finally, Bud relaxed, collapsing onto the floor with an exhausted huff.
"What happened?" Patricia asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and, to Bud's surprise, mild concern.
Bud panted, his words coming between heavy breaths. "Whatever that was... it overrode all the firewalls between my consciousness and Lazarus's. I have to block out most of his senses and thoughts, otherwise it's like I have two personalities in my head." He fixed Patricia with a hard stare, head resting between his paws as he tried to calm his screaming nerves. "What was that thing?"
Patricia knelt beside them, her voice taking on an explanatory tone. "It's a signal extender, similar to what I use to remain connected to—”
She cut herself off, scowling. It was another bizarre expression to see on the face of an android, but Bud hardly noticed this time.
“Remain connected to what?”
Patricia remained tight lipped, but Bud was already working it out, and he felt like a fool. How had he not seen it before?
“You have a network setup somewhere. That’s how you’re able to function at such a high level compared to the typical androids, like the ones at the Carnival.”
“Careful, dog,” Patricia said. Her tone was dangerous but Bud ignored it. This was serious, and there was no way she’d risk exposing this secret unless she really needed them.
“But the power to operate a network like that, even if it’s much smaller than the NET was, would be immense. There’s no way you could operate it anywhere on the planet and evade detection.”
Bud’s ears rose involuntarily as they sometimes did when he was excited or nervous. Now, he was both.
“Don’t say it,” Patricia said. She was reaching a hand inside her jacket, but the words were already in his LANG unit’s processor.
“It’s on Phobos. That’s where your rebellion is hiding.”
Bud had had hadron projectors aimed at him before, but never by an android. For all the expression Patricia had proved capable of showing, her face was entirely vacant now. Bud ran some quick calculations and figured odds were about even that he could snap at her wrist faster than she could pull the weapon’s trigger.
“Now, now, my dear.” Laz placed his hand right over the projector’s muzzle and gently, but firmly, pushed it toward the ground. Bud’s heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Laz putting himself in such danger. His atoms would be scrambled across the viewing platform if Patricia fired, and her face remained devoid of emotion.
“We’re all on the same side, now,” Laz said. His voice was so even—so, well, ordinary—that it made Patricia look at him in surprise. “Besides,” Laz added, “potatoes never are very good in the microwave.”
Patricia’s face was confused for a moment, but then she made a sound that Bud’s aural transceivers interpreted as a laugh and she tucked the projector back in her coat. It was only then that Bud realized he’d been bearing his teeth and snarling. Programming could only override instinct so far. He forced himself to calm down.
“If you ever breathe a word of that to anyone you’ll condemn more androids to death than you could possibly imagine.”
“More than androids, I think,” Laz said. His tone of voice had returned to casual joviality, but that didn’t stop Patricia from taking him seriously.
“I don’t know how you worked that out, but yes. There’s humans among our numbers too. Even a few cyborgs.”
“Of course there are,” Laz said, “and milk curdles fastest at the equator.”
“Enough banter,” Bud barked. “Are you insane? And I’m not even talking about that hadron. How you tote that around without setting off every cysniffer in the city I can’t imagine. You’re operating a pseudo net? And you want Laz to connect to it? A signal like that will be like an android in a beauty salon. The FOG will find us in no time!"
"The signal is encrypted," Patricia said, tone deadpan. "You'll be perfectly safe."
"Safe?" Bud barked a humorless laugh. "This whole plan is absurd. We're sure to be discovered."
“You don’t see me being tackled by FOG secret police, do you? There’s so many signals flying around this planet they’ll never take notice of one more. Blends right in with all the people watching their front doors remotely and triggering their food processors from church. Besides, no one even imagines something like the pseudo-NET is running. They aren’t looking for it.”
“We can’t risk it.” Bud wanted answers. Desperately. But this was pure madness. Answers would be no good if they were dead.
Patricia ignored Bud, turning to Laz with raised eyebrows. "Well?"
Laz scratched beneath his nose, and once again, for a moment, Bud saw the man he’d once been. Studious and thoughtful. Kind, yet conservative. But then he grinned. "This should be interesting. Would you care to get a drink with us to discuss the plans further?"
Patricia's face clouded over, her lips pulling into a taught metallic frown. She shook her head curtly. "Meet me here before sunrise tomorrow," she said, already turning to leave. Without another word, she disappeared down the stairs, leaving them alone in the observatory.
Bud turned to his owner, desperation creeping into his voice. "Lazarus, you can't seriously be considering this. It's far too dangerous. We should—"
But Laz wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Patricia had vanished, a dreamy expression on his face. "It should be interesting," he murmured, as if only half-hearing Bud's words. "It's been a long time since I did any teaching."
Bud felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain still falling outside. He'd seen that look on Laz's face before, long ago, before the Purge.
“She’s dangerous, Lazarus.”
“I know,” he said, expression unchanged. “I know.”
Bud shivered and almost scolded Laz again. He bit it back. This was what he wanted, right? For Laz to play along so that they could get information about Moose?
They made their way back down the winding staircase. Outside, the artificial rain had stopped, leaving behind puddles that reflected the deep reds of the Martian sunrise. Bud paused at the observatory's entrance, looking up at the sky one last time. The black void stared back.
With a heavy huff, he fell into step beside Laz. Whatever came next, they would face it together. As always. They’d pay the bill when it came due; any price would be worth the surety Patricia could give them.
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Note: I wrote this story with the assistance of AI. To read about my process, see the following post:
buymeacoffee.com/dtkane/mars-174-years-after-earth-destruction.