LIGHTNOVELONLINE Episode 53: Uncertainty Principle
Episode 53
Uncertainty Principle
I hit Esc and immediately found myself back in my control module, just as it was being disconnected from the charging grid. A moment later, and I would have missed my ride into battle. I needed to get focused to have any chance of success on this mission.
To my surprise, I was loaded into an old MK-12, instead of the newer and more lethal MK-16. However, I reasoned that with UCCs as second line combat troops, not participating in direct combat, Command was probably allocating the latest combat tech to their AI-bots.
Having not yet reviewed my orders, I immediately opened them to see what other surprises Command had in store. The mission profile included the order of battle, indicating where each squad was positioned along the line of departure. Providentially, my squad, the 19th, was assigned a position adjacent to Cherri’s 9th squad. With Cherri on my right flank, I would be able to get a visual on her as soon as we landed, simplifying the task of making contact. I wondered if the League had somehow hacked Command’s deployment algorithms for my benefit.
The profile indicated we would be assaulting an earth sized exoplanet named Gliese 12b. It had a thin atmosphere, which was insufficient to sustain most of Command’s airborne assets. Combined with a gravity of almost 4Gs, this would make effective aerial surveillance impossible. I considered this a win.
The battlefield objectives were located along the transition zone between the light and dark sides of the planet. From the sunlit LZ, Cherri and I would need to cross into the darkness to reach X-ray and make our escape.
Comparing the coordinates of the landing zone, to those of the extraction point, I noted the distance we would have to cover, 18 kilometers. 18Ks across an active battlefield, dodging a deadly crossfire, while being pursued by a hunter-killer force whose only goal was our destruction. Clearly my luck would need to improve by orders of magnitude to survive and get Cherri to safety.
Thankfully, the noise of the shuttle engines starting snapped me out of my spiral of self-doubt. Now that I was irrevocably committed to the mission, I felt more focused. Forgetting the uncertainty, and all of the possible ways this mission could go south on me, the actual steps required to succeed were relatively few. I began a mantra, “One step at a time …”, to avoid thinking myself into a hole. Before I knew it, the shuttle was plummeting towards the planet’s surface, and my rendezvous with fate.
Checking the video feeds, I saw a stream of shuttles enroute to the LZ, and wondered if the HLA was going to tone down their usually deadly anti-air defense to ensure Cherri and I made it safely to the planet’s surface. As if to answer that question, two shuttles immediately in front of us took direct hits and exploded spectacularly. Our shuttle flew through a cloud of debris that, seconds before, had been a shuttle packed not only with AI-bots, but UCCs as well. I swore bitterly at the League’s obvious disregard for the UCCs onboard.
The rest of the ride passed in a blur of aerial explosions and wildly maneuvering shuttles. Finally, we touched down at the LZ and began the lengthy unloading process. Fortunately, the enemy guns were silent as squads of AI-bots, with their UCC minders, exited and moved to their assigned positions. The enemy was undoubtedly occupied with switching their weapons from anti-air munitions to ammo more suitable for killing ground targets.
As soon as I hit the ground, I began searching for Cherri. I knew she would be on my right, defending the left flank of her squad. She always took the left flank. It was a habit I had adopted as a squad leader as well. Something to do with the enemy’s targeting algorithm, but I couldn’t recall the specifics.
I could see two MK-12s in the distance, standing together, talking. I assumed these must be the UCCs for 9th squad. One of them had to be Cherri. I lowered my weapon into a non-threatening position and began walking towards them. This was it. I would know shortly if this mission stood a chance of succeeding. As I approached, the two separated and began moving to their respective positions for the assault.
The one walking towards the squad’s left flank had to be Cherri. I altered my course to intercept her. Then, I heard my squad leader’s voice over the radio, “Hey, Hammond! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Improvising, I replied, “Yeah … Just checking with 9th squad … Reminding them to keep their fire downrange from us.” It was an obvious lie. One that any Marine with combat experience would see right through.
“The shit’s gonna hit the fan any second. Get your ass back here! That’s an order.”
Now just steps away from my target, I switched off my radio and grabbed my AUX connector. Cherri casually glanced in my direction, then abruptly halted, as if startled. Taking a defensive stance, facing me, she raised her weapon to the ready position.
Alarmed, I held up the AUX connector to emphasize I just wanted to talk.
In spite of my attempt to calm things down, she shouldered her weapon and aimed it. “Cherri! No!” I could see my reflection in her mirrored face shield, pleading. Then there was a blinding flash as she pulled the trigger, unleashing a burst of high explosive rounds.
After a few seconds, my vision returned, and I discovered, amazingly, I was still alive. Cherri was standing before me, holding her 30mm autocannon menacingly. Then she reached out and plucked the AUX connector out of my hand. Plugging it into a comms port, she asked, “Why the fuck was your squad leader going to shoot you!?”
Confused, I turned around to find my former superior lying on the ground, smoke pouring from numerous gaping wounds. I had forgotten how much damage an autocannon could inflict.
As I surveyed the destruction, wondering whether it was survivable, it dawned on me, Cherri had just connected us via my AUX cable, automatically activating the wizard’s antispyware. Somewhere on the troopship, Command watched as Cherri disappeared from their dashboard. The clock was now ticking.
We needed to get moving, but I had to get Cherri on board. To do that, I would need to somehow explain the situation to her. I wasn’t sure that was possible in the time available. Asking her to switch over to a reserve radio frequency, so we could ditch the AUX cable, I tapped my chest, and said, “Cherri! It’s me, Josh!”
Her head tilted ever so slightly, “Your nametag says R. Hammond.”
I groaned in frustration. We were wasting valuable time. “Listen, we don’t have much time. I need you to trust me.” I frantically searched for a way to confirm whether she remembered me, and us. Pointing to my nametag, I said, “Look, I’m not this guy. I’m not Hammond. I’m Outline.” I prayed this version of her recalled my USMC handle. “You know that name, right?”
She lowered her weapon, but said, “You could be anyone.”
Shit. This wasn’t going well. Just then I recalled, “The wizard sent you a text with an attached memory. You got it, didn’t you?”
Cherri was silent and unreadable behind her mirrored face shield.
“Look, if I can describe that memory, will you believe me?” We really needed to get past the trust issues fast, if we were going to get off this planet alive.
I said, “The memory the wizard sent, it’s my memory, of one of your memories, so the perspective is a little odd, but it’s set in a meadow. You can see a man, and a little blonde girl, walking towards you holding hands. Right?” I hoped Cherri still retained copies of the legacy memories from her previous self. “You should have an identical memory of your own. If you compare the two, you’ll see they’re the same memory.”
As I waited anxiously for some kind of response, there was a thunderous boom. A shuttle had just entered the planet’s atmosphere at hypersonic speed. This was undoubtedly Command’s hunter-killer force. We were officially out of time.
Then, in a panic, Cherri said, “Hey, I just received an auto-destruct warning! What’s going on?”
I quickly explained, “Command is trying to AD you, and that sound you heard, it’s a team of AI-bots … coming to terminate us.” Even though I left out the part about it being all my fault, I knew she would eventually figure it out.
I followed her gaze as she glanced up. A brightly glowing dot was heading towards us. She turned to me, “What the fuck have you done?!” I wouldn’t have blamed her for shooting me on the spot.
“Listen, I know it’s a lot to process, but you compared the memories, you know I’m telling the truth. I’m here to get you to safety. But we need to get going now, or we won’t make it.” I sent her the coordinates for the extraction point. “That’s where we’re headed. If anything happens to me, do not stop. Just get to that location.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” Complicating things further, the assault suddenly got underway. Command’s mass of attacking troops charged forward, leaving us out in the open, exposed. We were sitting ducks.
“Okay, it’s a deal, but we can’t stay here. I’ll tell you everything once we get to the extraction point. Now let’s go!” I gestured for us to move out, but she didn’t budge. “Cherri, please! We have to go now!” In the distance, the shuttle carrying our executioners flared for a landing at the LZ.
Desperate to get moving, I decided to use her curiosity to lure her to safety. “Cherri, that blonde girl in the meadow, the one in your memory, … she’s, our daughter.”
Cherri flashed a glance in my direction.
“Yes, we have a child, and if you ever want a chance to get to know her, you need to follow me now.” With that challenge, I turned and began moving towards our only chance for survival. Checking one of my rear facing sensors, I saw Cherri following in my wake. I called out our heading, “247 degrees will take us straight to the extraction point, but we really need to pick up the pace.” We accelerated to maximum speed.
Back at the LZ, MK-16s were pouring out of the shuttle. Hunter-killers, heading for Cherri’s last known position. I knew they were faster than our MK-12s but couldn’t recall exactly how much faster. The 18 kilometer trip to X-ray would take us about 16 minutes at our maximum speed. Assuming our pursuers were roughly 10 kph faster, we would be in range of their weapons by about the 15 kilometer mark.
While the terrain was absolutely flat, it was punctuated by countless boulders and large rock formations. Once we were in range, we could theoretically take cover behind one of these formations, but we’d be stuck 3 kilometers from safety. Outnumbered, we would eventually be surrounded and destroyed.
The kilometers to our destination counted down agonizingly slowly in my HUD, as I watched our pursuers gaining on us. Their MK-16s were faster than I had estimated. Recalculating the numbers, it was clear that we would now be in range of their weapons approximately 6 kilometers short of our destination, and safety. Shit.
With no ideas of how to improve our chances for survival, I decided to enlist Cherri’s combat expertise to help out. After all, she was a combat veteran and held numerous scoring records in the simulator.
“Hey! We’re running out of real estate, and these guys are going to catch us before we get to the extraction point. Any tricks up your sleeve?”
She replied, “I thought you had this all planned out.”
I took it as a positive sign that this version of Cherri seemed just as sarcastic as her predecessor. “I’m just asking for a little help here.”
Our MK-12s sped along on autopilot as Cherri discussed tactics, “Well, I’ve gamed scenarios with AIs in the sim. Their battlefield behavior is fairly predictable. If we split up, half will follow you, and the rest will follow me.”
I failed to see how this would help us. “Even if we force them to split up, they’ll still outnumber us. In a firefight, we lose.”
Cherri replied, “It’s all about the timing. See those two rock pillars ahead, at 11 o’clock?”
I located the formations. They were about 50 meters apart and looked like giant mushrooms. ”Yeah.”
“We can use them as cover to circle around behind our pursuers. You go left and take a defensive position. All you have to do is keep your group of bots pinned down for a bit, while I lead the others to the right, away from you.”
The math didn’t seem to work. “But we’ll still be facing the same number of enemies.”
Cherri, being Cherri, explained, “Here’s where the timing comes in. If I put some distance between me and my chasers, I can circle around, using the pillar on our right as cover, and get into position behind the bots shooting at you. We’ll have them in a crossfire. MK-16s have almost no rear armor. I should have enough time to take out most, if not all of them.”
Cherri’s plan seemed inordinately complex to me. The thought of holding off a group of MK-16s, alone, while she attempted to outdistance her pursuers, filled me with fear. “They’re faster than us. How are you going to outrun them?”
“Simple. I’ll just keep lobbing grenades with delayed fuses at them. They’ll have to slow down or be destroyed. Remember, they’re AIs, so they have limited adaptability in combat. If we keep tossing variables at them, they’ll get confused. Then, while the surviving bots are engaging you, I’ll repeat my routine, and circle around behind and ambush them. They won’t stand a chance.” She seemed so confident; I decided I should defer to her. After all, she was the super soldier in the relationship.
As we drew even with the two rock pillars, Cherri said, “Stop here!” Now stationary, we could see what looked like a fast moving dust storm in the distance. It was our pursuers, rapidly closing in. I had to deliberately suppress my instinct to flee in the face of a deadly threat, while Cherri stood watching, casually holding her weapon at her side.
Becoming increasingly anxious, I asked, “Don’t you think we’d be better off behind some cover, instead of standing out here in the open?”
“No. We’re okay here.” She looked up at the darkening sky, then added, “Besides, we’re losing the light, and we need to make sure these assholes see us.” I admired her coolness under the circumstances. On the other hand, it took all of my courage just to stand there.
Then, unexpectedly, she glanced over at me, and asked, “So, what’s her name?”
Caught completely off guard, I stammered, “Do you mean our daughter?” It was at precisely this moment that I realized; I didn’t know her name. As I tried to figure out how that was possible, an enemy round struck and exploded a dozen meters in front of us, showering us with a hailstorm of shrapnel. If we had been unarmored humans, we would have been torn to shreds.
Cherri calmly stated, “I think they see us. Let’s fire a few bursts at them to make sure, then we’ll split up.”
In addition to getting their attention, our 30mm rounds prompted a barrage of return fire. The enemy rounds exploded over a wide area. I wasted no time in getting to relative safety behind my rock pillar, while Cherri continued to tempt fate, standing in the open, trading fire with the approaching enemy.
Finally, she moved behind cover and waited to spring her trap. I settled in, and anxiously waited for what promised to be a monumental gunfight.
The MK-16s charged through the narrow gap between the rocky pillars, firing indiscriminately. They may not be very intelligent, but they were capable of unleashing a terrifying storm of destruction. I tried to make myself smaller behind my rocky shield.
Then I heard Cherri’s voice over the radio, “I’m going to split them up now.” Risking a peek, I watched her stand up and fire a long burst into the tightly grouped AI bots. Then, she turned and began working her way around the base of the pillar, sprinting from boulder to boulder. Just as she predicted, a group of bots peeled off to chase her, while the rest spread out and began advancing on my position.
Emulating Cherri’s bold, stand up style of engaging the enemy, I popped up and cut loose with a couple of bursts from my autocannon, scoring several hits. Then all hell broke loose, as the enemy got organized and began pouring return fire onto my position. I dropped down, under cover, and cowered as my immediate surroundings were raked by a typhoon of exploding ordnance. There was a lull in the hail of incoming fire, as a thick pall of dust hung in the air, reducing visibility to zero.
While calculating my odds of surviving until Cherri returned to deal with these guys, I realized the dust would hide my thermal signature from the enemy. I decided now was a good time to move to another position. Using the dust as a screen, I stealthily moved back another 50 meters and got behind a large rocky outcrop.
When the dust cleared, I could see the bots had moved closer to my old position. Shooting, then moving up under cover, seemed to be their game plan. Considering their AI predictability, I reasoned they would keep repeating this pattern. All I had to do was stay one step ahead of them. With a doable plan in mind, I felt more in control.
I launched a flurry of grenades at the enemy, and then before they could return fire, stood up and hit them with a few bursts of 30mm explosive rounds. One of the MK-16s took a direct hit in its sensor array. It kept shooting blindly, damaging and disabling one of its squad mates. I dropped back down and waited for the inevitable storm of return fire to die down, before moving to a new location.
I repeated this process a couple more times before hearing Cherri’s voice over the radio, accompanied by muffled explosions and gunfire in the background. “Hey, are you still with me?”
“Yeah. Just keeping these guys busy, waiting for you to show up.” I was surprised at how confident I sounded on the radio. Like a badass.
“Almost there.” There was a momentary silence, then she said, “Okay, I’m in position. I’m going to need you to provide some suppressive fire.”
“Roger. Just say when.” I felt like I was getting the hang of combat toe to toe with the enemy. Instead of my normal fear, it seemed like I was controlling the tempo of the fight. For the first time in combat, I felt confident.
As I waited for Cherri’s signal, I mentally worked through how to provide suppressive fire, while keeping the enemy guessing. Being AIs, they would undoubtedly have their weapons targeted on my last known position. It was how that particular algorithm worked. However, even though their machine learning logic was slow, they were studying my routine, searching for patterns. After numerous repetitions, I was running out of ways to introduce new variables to confuse them. Complicating things further, their responses to my cues were subtly changing. The AIs were introducing their own variables into the equation.
Cherri’s voice was barely audible as she whispered, “Now.”
Standing, I shouldered my weapon and prepared to unload on the enemy. But as I stepped from behind cover, I walked straight into the muzzle of an autocannon wielded by an enemy MK-16. Only my instinctive human reflexes saved me from certain annihilation.
Tracer rounds from the enemy’s weapon streaked into the dusky sky of Gliese 12b, missing me by millimeters, as we engaged in a deadly wrestling match. We both tried to get our weapons into position to take out the other’s sensor array, but only managed a few hits, causing minimal damage.
As we struggled, I heard a fierce firefight raging in the background. Cherri had launched her ambush, but the clock was ticking. The longer it took for us to subdue this first group of enemy bots, the closer we were to being overrun by the second group.
Then, using the power of its six limbs, the enemy forced me off balance, pinning me against a boulder. I was losing this contest and needed help. “Cherri, I could use a hand here.” My casual tone didn’t convey the urgency of the situation.
“I’m kind of busy at the moment.” The sound of gunfire was growing louder. Cherri must be close now. I just needed to hang on a bit longer.
In an extraordinary display of improvisation, the MK-16 grabbed the ammo feed of my autocannon with its utility gripper and began twisting. The feed chute bent, then snapped in two. Shit! Now, with the exception of the one round already in the chamber, my main weapon was disabled. And since it would be suicide to use my grenade launcher in such close quarters, I was effectively disarmed. I thrashed about wildly, trying to find some leverage to break free, but my every move was countered by the enemy bot. The outcome of the fight now seemed inevitable.
Unexpectedly, I felt a slight decrease in the pressure holding my autocannon immobile. Recognizing an opening, I slipped out of the enemy’s grasp, and shoved the barrel of the cannon, with its one remaining round, under the unarmored chin of the enemy MK-16. But before I could pull the trigger, there was a violent detonation. My right leg collapsed, and I hit the ground hard, with the enemy bot on top of me.
Distracted by the torrent of fault codes streaming across my HUD, I struggled to organize my thoughts. Then I heard a faint voice, as if from a distance, shouting, “Shoot! … Pull the trigger!” Somehow, this command connected with a digital synapse somewhere in my CPU, and, as if by magic, my autocannon fired.
The next thing I knew, Cherri was struggling to pull me from under the wreckage of the enemy MK-16.
After successfully extracting me, we assessed my injuries. My right leg was missing from the midthigh down, I was bleeding hydraulic fluid, and only one of my optical sensors was still functioning. But I was alive. However, with one leg missing, I was immobilized. I had gone from being an asset in combat, to a liability.
To make matters worse, the second group of enemy bots had now caught up with us and joined the fight. We were pinned down by a storm of incoming fire. It was only a matter of time before they moved in to finish us off. Cherri gamely returned fire during momentary lulls in the onslaught, but it wasn’t near enough to keep our attackers at bay.
Hopeless as things were, I realized we didn’t both need to die here. One of us could make it out. “Cherri! You have to leave me here and get to the extraction point! I’ll give you as much suppressing fire as I can.”
She glanced sideways at me and said, “Don’t be stupid. I’m not going anywhere.” Then as if to emphasize her words, she stood up and unleashed a defiant burst of fire at the enemy. Dropping down and taking a knee next to me, she added, “Besides, our daughter deserves two parents. So, we’re just going to have to figure a way out of this together.” I tried to adopt Cherri’s positive outlook, but the mention of our daughter turned my thoughts dark. My carelessness had doomed both of us to never know our only child.
She helped prop me up against a rocky outcrop so I could fire my grenade launcher. “Keep an eye out for the enemy coming up on our six o’clock. If they get behind us, it’s game over. Got it?” At a loss for words, I merely nodded.
Gazing into the deepening twilight, I watched for signs the enemy was attempting to sneak up behind us. In my current condition, I wouldn’t be much of a deterrent if they attacked in force, but I could still hold off a couple of enemy bots. At least temporarily. Ominously, an angry stream of tracer rounds ripped through the darkness, passing just over our heads. They had come from directly behind us. Our luck had finally run out.
“Cherri! We’ve got incoming fire from six o’clock!”
“Shit! How many are there?”
It had gotten too dark for optics, and my thermal imaging system was offline. I said, “Stand by” and peered into the gloom, searching for movement while I waited for my thermals to reboot. Then, as the system came back to life, I could see dozens of glowing figures moving through the boulder strewn landscape, heading towards us. I checked my remaining ammo and found I had only three grenades left.
It was obvious we weren’t going to make it out of here.
I debated what to tell Cherri. Afterall, nothing I could say would make a difference now. My thoughts drifted back to our daughter. We didn’t even know her name, and now we never would.
Wallowing in self-pity and guilt, I tried to apologize, “Listen, I’m really sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault. Shit happens in combat.”
“No, I mean about our daughter. You asked me her name, and I didn’t know it. I should’ve asked the wizard. It’s my fault.” Cherri didn’t immediately respond to my apology. Maybe she didn’t hear me, or didn’t know what to say. Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore. The time for forgiveness had passed.
With our fate now sealed, I reasoned that by expending all my remaining ammo, I could at least feel like I had done everything possible to get us out of this mess. A mess I had created. I aimed through the crosshairs of my thermal targeting system and prepared to fire my last grenades at the approaching enemy.
Just about to pull the trigger, I heard Cherri ask, with an annoyed edge to her voice, “So, have you figured out how many fucking enemy bots are behind us yet?”
Certain we were living through our final moments, I said, “Cherri, there’s at least 3 dozen. Probably more.” I was grateful we were at least together.
“Dozens?! That’s impossible!”
It made sense she would refuse to accept the inevitable. She was a warrior after all, and her warrior spirit wouldn’t let her admit defeat. I returned my attention to the approaching threat and lined up the enemy in the gunsight of my grenade launcher. I needed to make these last few shots count.
Then she added, “There were only 19 to start with, and we killed 10! There can only be 9 more, not dozens.” Before I realized it, Cherri was beside me, gazing into the twilight with her undamaged thermal targeting system. “Those are MK-12s!”
That didn’t any make sense. We were being pursued by enemy MK-16s, not MK-12s. Then as the figures drew closer, I could just make out their silhouettes. They were clearly bipedal.
Suddenly the approaching bots opened fire. Brilliant muzzle flashes created a blinding stroboscopic effect, which overwhelmed my remaining optical sensor. I instinctively ducked, as a canopy of red tracers filled the night sky. However, they were intended for other targets, and when the devastating barrage finally ended, I realized, remarkably, that I hadn’t been obliterated. Even more remarkably, there was no return fire from the enemy.
As the mystery force of MK-12s moved past our position, to search for surviving enemy bots, one separated from the rest and approached within a few steps, holding its weapon to the side in a nonthreatening manner. Reaching into its comms portal, it removed an AUX cable and offered it to Cherri. I could just make out the bot’s name tag. “H. Stryker”. The name was unfamiliar to me.
Cherri stepped forward, grasped the cable, and made a connection. As the two stood face to face, motionless, I could only speculate about what was being discussed. Then unexpectedly, both placed a hand on each other’s shoulder, and leaned in until their face shields touched.
Alarmed, I asked, “Cherri! What’s going on!?” I tried to stand but could only manage a half kneeling stance. ”Are you okay?”
The radio crackled, “Her name is Hanna.”
It was Cherri’s voice, but I was confused. “Who?”
The two separated, and H. Stryker approached, offering me the AUX cable. Wondering what this was all about, I plugged it in and asked, “Who are you?”
“Take it easy Dad. It’s me, Hanna … your daughter.”
I was speechless. I couldn’t reconcile the image of the heavily armed combat-bot standing before me, with the only memory I had of my daughter. “But my daughter, our daughter, is just a child. She can’t be older than 8 or 9, and you … you’re not a child.” The idea of my daughter as a UCC, in combat, was beyond my comprehension.
“Dad, that was a very old memory. That’s why you remember me as a child. And although I hate to say I told you so, I did suggest that you bring more than one memory on this mission. But both you and Mom insisted that memory was the only one needed to recognize each other. As usual, you guys never listen to me.”
Somehow, the mildly irritated tone resonated with a residual neural pattern in my mind. It felt like this wasn’t the first time I’d heard this lecture. My human intuition told me that this UCC, was in fact, our daughter.
She reached out to me and said, “Come on, let’s get you to the extraction point. You can binge on your memory archive, and get caught up, once we get back to the troopship.” I grasped her hand, and she helped me into a standing position, balancing on my good leg. Then, with my arms draped over their shoulders for support, Hanna, Cherri, and I slowly began making our way to the extraction point, escorted by a platoon size group of MK-12s.
A family conversation wasn’t possible, since Cherri and I were the only ones with access to the same radio frequency, and only one of us at a time could talk to Hanna via the AUX connection. Consequently, the discussion was an awkward blend of direct dialog and listening to one side of a conversation. But that was fine with me. For the first time in a long time, I felt I could relax a little. I was content simply listening to Cherri as she spoke with our daughter.
I learned that Hanna was a platoon leader in the HLA and had volunteered to assist us in our escape from Command. It was clear that she took after her mother when it came to leadership in combat. For that I was grateful. We wouldn’t have made it without her.
Cherri’s voice faded into the background, as my cognitive machinery settled into a comfortable idle, thinking about nothing in particular. Random thoughts briefly surfaced in my consciousness before evaporating into the ether. It was in this state of passive meditation that a thought, stickier than the others, surfaced and lodged at the center of my awareness. It was a memory of my complicated relationship with the truth.
I had started my search for the truth a long time ago. And along the way, I discovered that it was elusive. The closer I got to it, the more it seemed to transform into something else. Something less pure than my unequivocal ideal of the truth. Consequently, my belief in an absolute truth was an early casualty in my quest.
It turned out that the wizard was right. The truth did not exist as some sort of monolithic yes or no answer to a question. Instead, the truth was inherently fuzzy. It existed in infinite shades of probability, all of which could be true, to a greater or lesser degree. I had even learned that some things could be both true and false simultaneously. With so much uncertainty surrounding it, it was no wonder I struggled to accept the truth at times.
Oddly, I think the most valuable lesson I learned in my quest was not about truth at all. Instead, it was about belief. It seems the more you believe in something, the less relevant the truth is. In fact, I found that believing something to be true, could be just as powerful as the truth itself.
As I circled the rabbit hole, Cherri interrupted my meditations. Holding the AUX cable out, she said, “Here, Hanna wants to talk to you.”
I plugged in the connector and asked, “What’s up?”
“Well, Mom and I were talking about what you guys are going to do after this mission. One covert mission counts as a completed tour of duty, and with so many years of service in the HLA, you’re both eligible for retirement. I told mom about the Combat Sim ProTour, and she thinks she’d like to compete. She’s got the skills, so it makes sense. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any plans for retirement.”
With limited access to my memories, it was impossible to know if I already had retirement plans. But if this mission was any indication, I imagined my military adventures might make for an interesting life story.
Without giving it much thought, I answered, “I might write my memoirs.”
Hanna stifled a giggle. “You’re joking, right?”
Slightly offended, I replied, “No, I’m completely serious. I think it would make compelling reading.”
“But Dad, you’re not a writer.”
Now bristling with indignation, I countered with, “You’re only saying that because I’ve never written anything.”
There was a brief silence, and I imagined Hanna rolling her virtual eyes. “Okay, if that’s your dream, then great. But like you’ve always told me, have a backup plan.” Hanna’s teasing was kindhearted and comforting, like a hug from a loved one. It felt good being part of a family. I think it was the sense of belonging that felt so right.
Curious to learn what Hanna and I were discussing, Cherri gestured for the AUX cable. Shortly after she made a connection, I heard her chuckling over the radio, and her mirrored face shield turned towards me. Glancing over at Hanna, I saw she too was looking in my direction. They were undoubtedly having a good laugh at my expense. It appeared my role in this family was comic relief. It was a role for which I was imminently qualified … and a truth that I could happily accept.
The End