The Ghost Brigades

“I want to get back to Sagan,” Mattson said. “When do you think you’ll be able to get an answer from her?”

 

 

“I’ll put it to her today,” Szilard said. “And I’ll tell her to be ready in a week. That should give her time to take care of things that need to be done.”

 

“Like what?” Mattson said.

 

“Good-byes and closure, of course,” Szilard said. “And a few other decisions I am going to ask her to make.”

 

 

 

Jane Sagan peered into what looked like a miniature light show. “What is this?” she asked.

 

“It’s Jared Dirac’s soul,” Cainen said.

 

Sagan glanced over to him. “I remember you once told me that Special Forces soldiers didn’t have souls,” she said.

 

“That was another place, and another time,” Cainen said. “And I am not so very foolish now. But very well, it’s his consciousness, then,” Cainen said. “Retrieved by one of your soldiers, I believe, and from what I understand recorded by Charles Boutin. And I understand it is your job to decide what to do with it.”

 

Sagan nodded. Szilard had come to her, offering her discharge, the discharge of John Perry and the custodianship of Zo? Boutin, on the condition that she keep her mouth shut about the Conclave and that she make a decision about what to do with Jared Dirac’s consciousness.

 

::I understand about the Conclave,:: Sagan said. ::But I don’t understand about Dirac.::

 

::I’m just curious what you’ll do,:: Szilard said, and refused to explain it any further than that.

 

“What will you do with it?” Cainen asked.

 

“What do you think I should do?” Sagan asked.

 

“I know precisely what you should do with it,” Cainen said. “But I am not you and I will not tell you what I would do with it until I hear what you would do with it first.”

 

Sagan looked over at Harry Wilson, who was watching with interest. “And what would you do, Harry?”

 

“Sorry, Jane,” Wilson said, and smiled. “I plead the Fifth as well. This is your call.”

 

“You could bring him back,” Sagan said to Cainen.

 

“It’s possible,” Cainen said. “We know more about it now than we did before. It’s possible we could condition the brain better than they conditioned Dirac’s brain to accept Boutin’s personality. There’s some risk of the transfer not taking, and then you’d have a situation like what happened with Dirac, where another personality would grow instead, and the other personality would slowly impinge. But I think it’s less of a risk now, and in time, it won’t be a serious risk at all. I think we could bring him back, if that’s what you wanted.”

 

“But it’s not what Jared wanted, is it?” Sagan said. “He knew his consciousness had been recorded. He could have asked me to try to save it. He didn’t.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” Cainen agreed.

 

“Jared made his choice,” Sagan said. “And it was his choice to make. Erase the recording, please, Cainen.”

 

“And now you see why I know you have a soul,” Cainen said. “Please accept my apology that I ever doubted it.”

 

“Apology unneeded,” Sagan said. “But apology accepted.”

 

“Thank you,” Cainen said. “And now, Lieutenant Sagan, I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you. Or perhaps it’s not so much of a favor as calling due a debt between us.”

 

“What is it?” Sagan asked.

 

Cainen looked past Sagan to Wilson, who looked suddenly very uncomfortable. “You don’t have to stay for this, my friend,” Cainen said to Wilson.

 

“Of course I’ll stay,” Wilson said. “But let me reiterate: You’re a damn fool.”

 

“Noted,” Cainen said. “And I appreciate the thought.”

 

Wilson crossed his arms and looked vexed.

 

“Tell me,” Sagan said.

 

“I wish to die, Lieutenant,” Cainen said. “Over the last several months, I have begun to feel the effects of the antidote you provide lessen. Every day I am in increasing pain.”

 

“We can give you more,” Sagan said.

 

“Yes, and perhaps that would work,” Cainen said. “But I am in pain, beyond the mere physical aspect. I am far away from my people and my home, and far from the things that bring me joy. I cherish the friendships I have with Harry Wilson and with you—you! of all people—but every day I feel the part of myself that is Rraey, the part that is truly me, grow colder and smaller. Not too long from now there will be nothing left of it and I will be alone, absolutely alone. I will be alive, but I’ll be dead inside.”

 

“I can talk to General Szilard about releasing you,” Sagan said.

 

“That’s what I told him,” Wilson said.

 

“You know they’ll never release me,” Cainen said. “I’ve done too much work for you now. I know far too much. And even if you did release me, do you think the Rraey would welcome me back? No, Lieutenant. I am far from home, and I know that I can never go back to it.”

 

“I’m sorry I did this to you, Cainen,” Sagan said. “If I could change this for you I would.”

 

“Why would you?” Cainen said. “You’ve saved your people from war, Lieutenant. I am merely part of the cost.”

 

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