Asylum

Dab stepped out into the warmth of the Denebian sunlight and contemplated her future. This place wasn’t home, but it was decidedly better than living on a Bhetangu conglomerate orbiting a dead planet. Assuming the Bhetangu would have allowed a traitor to live.

Penn offered her a hand, a gesture she recognized as one of friendship. “Good morning, Miss Dab. I hope you slept well.”

Dab smiled and shook his hand. “Yes, Herbert, thank you. Good morning, William.”

Teller seldom spoke, but he smiled and nodded to her. The two bodyguards walked alongside her as she headed toward the waiting shuttle.

“Are you volunteering at the infirmary again this morning? I know it’s been rough on you.”

“It seems like the least I can do. None of them would currently be prisoners if it weren’t for me.”

“I guess that’s true,” said Penn, “but you aren’t the one who implanted parasites into their brains. If it weren’t for you, they might have remained slaves for the rest of their lives.”

Dab sighed and nodded. “Damn Tox and her utokulod experiments. She deserves the worst punishment your Union can inflict upon her.”

“The Union isn’t much into cruel and unusual punishment,” said Penn. “She will most likely receive a death sentence for her war crimes, but even that will be quick and humane… at least, as far as executions go.”

They walked in silence for a while before Dab spoke again. “None of them know me anymore. These were my friends, more or less, on Eskadrilya. But when they wake up after surgery, I’m a stranger to them.”

“Aye,” said Penn. “That’s what the worms do, I’ve heard. I’ve met folks who’ve spent a couple of years under their control. The Aldebarans have therapy to help them remember stuff, but it takes time.”

“Did you know any of them before they were infected? Did they… change?”

Penn shrugged. “I’ve only ever met them after the fact.”

“One of the Bhetangu they’re operating on today, Gil…” Dab sighed. “We were intimate. I’m not sure which would be worse, if he didn’t survive the procedure, or having him not know me at all.”

“I understand. Does the Mediator know?”

Dab nodded. “It doesn’t really change anything. Even if he doesn’t know me at all, he’ll be better off if he sees a fellow Bhetangu than a bunch of unknown alien lifeforms.”

---

Dab paced as she waited. The surgery had become routine for Union doctors by now, but it was still brain surgery, and none of them had any experience with Bhetangu patients.

The doctor finally entered the room. “The surgery went very well. No complications, and we managed to take the thing out cleanly. It might even survive long enough for our scientists to study it.”

Dab frowned. “Study it? You’re not planning to use them, too, are you?”

The doctor smiled. “No, of course not. At least, not the way your people used them.” He must have seen Dab’s disgust, because he quickly added. “I mean no offense, Miss.”

Dab sighed. “No, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“What I meant was that we hope that we might be able to learn how the parasite manipulates memories, in hopes that we might be able to more quickly reverse the memory loss.”

“The memory loss is reversible?”

“It’s a slow process, but absolutely. We estimate that this man was infected for over twenty years, though. That’s a lot of repressed memories. It could take years to recall them all.”

Dab nodded. “I understand.” Damn Tox. Damn the Cryons.

“He should wake soon. We’ll stay out of sight until you’ve spoken with him, same as with the others.”

The Bhetangu had only entered this galaxy twelve years earlier. None of the Infected would remember the journey across the Void, or the failed alliance with the Polarans. None of them would remember the destruction of their vessel or the years spent hiding out in an abandoned asteroid mine.

Besides the Cryon witch Tox, only Dab and another Pyron named Job were clean of the parasite. Job had elected to remain a prisoner of war, giving only his name and rank in response to any and all questions.

Tox was being held in tight security, in part because of Dab’s testimony against her. She would be lucky to earn a mere life sentence for her growing list of atrocities. Dab prayed that Tox would face much harsher penalties.

Tox had ordered the destruction of a planet, just to demonstrate their ability to do so. She allowed no warnings, no time to evacuate, no terms of surrender. As communications officer, Dab had listened to the broadcast cries of billions of Boteins as their planet began tearing itself apart.

When they had entered the Markab system, Tox had begun barking the same orders. Unwilling to listen to another genocide, Dab had secretly sent a transmission warning the Markabans not to let the ship get near the planet. They had apparently received the message and taken it seriously.

When the leaders of the Union had learned of Dab’s actions, they treated her like a hero. She was released from the prison camp, given an apartment, and even offered a job with the Office of the Mediator. She was also given an armed escort to protect her from any fanatics who might seek to harm her simply for being Bhetangu.

It occurred to her that the escort might also be there to keep an eye on her. Not that she blamed them. Her Race was, after all, trying to destroy the Union.

The Mediator’s trust in her was sincere, though. Of that, she had no doubt. She trusted him, too. She hoped that he might be right about the possibility of a peaceful resolution between the Union and the Bhetangu.

None of that mattered, just then. All that mattered was Gil. When he opened his eyes, would he even know Dab? Would he still love her? If he did, would that change when he learned she was a turncoat? She pushed the doubts from her mind and waited.

Gil finally opened his eyes and began groggily looking around. “What is this place?”

Dab brushed a hand against his forehead. “You are in a hospital.”

“What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember?”

He closed his eyes. “The last thing I remember is meeting my commander after returning from the Kablatia campaign. I… can’t tell you what the meeting was about, though. It was classified.”

Dab smiled. “I never went on the Kablatia campaign. I was too young.”

“Too young! But you look as old as I am!”

“I am probably as old as you were… before you were infected.”

“Infected?”

“What do you know of the utokulod?”

He gasped. “That’s classified information! How do you know of it?”

“Gil, that was over twenty years ago. That’s how long you’ve been infected.”

“I… don’t remember any of it. What happened to me?”

Dab sighed. “Your commander was the Cryon, Tox, yes?”

“Yes. She was preparing to take over the utokulod research project.”

“She did this to you. Possibly to thousands of Bhetangu like you.”

Gil frowned. “Who are you? How do you know any of this?”

Dab shook her head. “You don’t… you don’t remember me.”

“Should I?”

“We’ve known each other for at least ten years. We served on Eskadrilya together.”

“I… don’t know that name, either. What’s going on?”

Dab nodded. “It’s okay. They said you probably wouldn’t remember.”

“Who said?”

“The people trying to help you, Gil. They are aliens, or rather, we are, here. This is an entirely new galaxy to us.”

“Have we conquered another Race?”

“No, but the Bhetangu mean to, eventually. We were part of an advance force sent to destabilize the central government. We failed.”

“So, we are prisoners of war.”

“No… not exactly. We’re more like refugees. You are a patient. I am a volunteer.”

“Were you infected, too?”

Dab shook her head. “No, never. I was a Pyron. Tox only infected the lower Castes.”

“Ah. I see. As a mere Aeron, I was expendable.”

“You are not expendable!”

Gil smiled. “That is an uncommon attitude for a Pyron.”

“I learned it from you. I wish you remembered.”

“You used the past tense. Are you no longer Pyron?”

“I am Casteless, now. I am a traitor to the Bhetangu.”

Gil glared at her. “If you are a traitor, I must kill you.”

Dab nodded. “If you must kill me, I would not stop you.”

“You regret your actions?”

Dab shook her head. “No, I believe what I did was right.”

“What did you do?”

“Right now, it is not important. Your recovery is important. If you still think I must die after you’ve regained your memory, so be it. I would die by your hand alone.”

---

Dab met the Mediator, Wayne Freed, that afternoon. “You were right, sir. Gil does not remember me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I understand you told him about your betrayal.”

“I probably shouldn’t have, but I felt it necessary to be honest with him.”

“Do you still consider yourself a traitor?”

Dab shrugged. “Before I met you, I had never considered the possibility of cooperation between Races. We Bhetangu have always taken what we needed. We have always ruled over others.”

“That’s not entirely true, though, is it? I’ve read your history, Dab. There was cooperation between the Eleven Races in your last Great War. All stood together to defeat the Supreme Lord.”

“The Supreme Lord was Bhetangu. I am descended from traitors. All Bhetangu who live are.”

“Were your ancestors wrong?”

“No, we believe that what we did was right, but we betrayed our Lord, all the same. Like I betrayed Tox. My life is forfeit if she ever gets hold of me. I do hope her death will be slow, and painful.”

The Mediator sighed and shook his head. “That is not our way, Dab. She will stand trial for war crimes once she has recovered from her injuries. Even if she is to be put to death, it will be quick.”

“If she is to stand trial, why treat her injuries?”

“By our laws, prisoners are to be treated with compassion, even if they are to be condemned. We don’t believe in causing harm out of vengeance. Well, mostly. We are human, after all.” He laughed. “Well, those of us who are human, that is, but I hope you get my meaning. We believe that all sentient beings have value, even if they have done great evil.”

“That is why you granted my request for asylum.”

He nodded. “First, I perceive that you are trustworthy. I never would have allowed you to go free if I thought otherwise. More importantly, my wife trusts you, and she is a far better judge of character than I am.”

Dab grinned. “Why is she not the Mediator, then?”

“Why, indeed? I ask myself that same question, sometimes, but here I am. The Mediator is not a position of power, though it is one of great respect. I champion peace, and I preside over the Council. Each system in the Galactic Union governs itself, though all member systems work together for the good of all. I think that you will eventually play a key role in the Bhetangu becoming equal partners, rather than would-be conquerors.”

“I will do what I can to help, if Tox does not kill me, first. Or any of the other Bhetangu.”

“Telling your fellows that you are a traitor might make keeping you safe a little difficult, but I can promise you that Tox cannot touch you. If she is not put to death, she will be imprisoned for life.”

“She has agents.”

“So have we.”

Dab smiled. “I hope you are not a fool, Mediator.”

He laughed jovially. “Oh, I most assuredly am. One has to be to desire to serve in this capacity. But I am surrounded by good people who point out my foolishness. More often than not, I listen to them. You are now one of those people, by the way.”

Dab nodded. “Then please, take my advice and kill Tox while she is still a prisoner. Even if you don’t, never trust a thing she says.”

“I can’t kill her, but I won’t trust her, either. She has already made it clear that my death is near the top of her bucket list.”

“Her what?”

He chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. “It’s an old Solan expression. Never mind. The point is that I know she’d kill me if she had the chance. I will not give her one.”

Dab nodded solemnly. “Good.”

Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he said, “Don’t give up on Gil. If he loved you once, perhaps he’ll see in you what he saw before.”

“Perhaps, but he did not know I was a traitor then.”

---

Gil’s face was almost unreadable as he was escorted into the visitation room. “Hello, traitor. I did not expect to see you again.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

He sighed. “No. Traitor or no, you are still the only Bhetangu who knows anything about this galaxy. Well, except for Commander Job, perhaps, but he says nothing to anyone but his name and rank. I suspect he might have suffered brain damage at some point.”

“Do you remember anything, yet?”

Gil nodded. “I have had a few sessions with a tall blue fellow.”

“He is Aldebaran. They train the best mnemonics therapists in the galaxy, I’m told. What do you remember?”

“I remember being infected. You were correct about Tox. She infected anyone who dared question her methods. If I ever see Tox again, I will kill her.” Gil clenched his hands. After a pause, he looked back at Dab. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you are a traitor, but you seem to be a person of good heart. You sat with all of us after we had the utokulod removed from our brains, so that when we awoke, we would see you, one of our own kind, instead of some strange alien face. If you are a traitor, why should you care about our well-being?”

“The Union Mediator asked me to. I agreed to do it, because I… because you are my friends.”

“Then how and why did you betray us?”

“You don’t understand, Gil. I had to do what I did.”

“What did you do?”

Dab explained to Gil about the destruction of Botein, how she listened to their screams. She told him about the secret transmission that warned Markab and sealed Eskadrilya’s fate. “I could not stand by and let billions more die without warning.”

Gil frowned darkly. “It does not surprise me that Tox acted without honor. It is a pity she yet lives. Perhaps we will find a way to end her and restore honor to the Bhetangu. As to your warning, I am a mere Aeron, and so my opinion matters little, but I believe you acted honorably, even if in doing so you aided our enemy. I might have done the same, in your place. I hope that I myself took no part in the genocide.”

“No. You were kitchen staff.”

Gil nodded. “Ah, so even though I was a slave, I still served according to my training. I hope I was a good cook.”

Dab smiled. “No, not really. Well, that isn’t fair. You might have been if you had better ingredients to work with. I’d love to see what you could do with some of the fruits they have on Deneb.”

“Perhaps I will fix you something if I am ever released from this prison.”

“Are you treated well?”

“Far better than I ever saw our kind treat prisoners of war.”

“I’m sorry you’re still confined. I would have you released if I could.”

“Why? If I were free, I still might kill you.”

“If you wish me dead, I don’t want to live.”

Gil looked at her and his expression softened. “I get the impression that your interest in me is different than any of the other Bhetangu. Were we lovers?”

Dab sighed. “I don’t want you to think you are obligated to me or anything. They warned me that you would not remember. I’m sorry if I’ve said too much. I… think I should go.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember any of it. I hope it hasn’t been too much of a burden on you.” Gil shrugged. “I do not wish you dead, Dab. Come back tomorrow, if you wish.”

---

Weeks stretched into months. Dab continued to visit with Gil, who would share with her what memories he had regained. She always looked forward to their meetings, though her hope was tinged with sorrow. He had stopped calling her traitor, and he always seemed genuinely pleased to see her, but he still could not recall their relationship.

“Today, I remembered Eskadrilya,” said Gil, proudly. “Tox hand-picked most of the crew herself. She picked us because of our absolute obedience and loyalty to her. Of course, it was all because of the utokulod. None of us had any choice but to be devoted to her.” His face darkened.

Dab held his hand. “You suddenly seem very angry.”

Gil nodded. “Tox treated many Aerons as body servants, even if that was not our primary assignment. She would merely tell one of us that we wanted to sleep with her, and… we would.”

Dab froze. “You slept with her?”

Gil nodded. “It disgusts me to think of it now, knowing that none of us had any choice in the matter. That woman deserves death.”

“The Mediator assures me that she will at least never be able to harm anyone again. Do you remember me, yet?”

Gil smiled and shook his head. “The only Pyron I remember meeting up to that point was Gor. He and Tox seemed to have a fierce disagreement over personnel. I think it frustrated him that the crew only obeyed his orders if she repeated them.”

Dab laughed. “I can well imagine.”

---

A few weeks later, Gil greeted Dab with a smile. “I met you, today. In my memories, that is. I almost did not recognize that it was you, you were so young.”

Dab nodded. “Yes, I was fresh out of training, only fifteen orbits old.”

“Tox did not like you. She disliked all of Gor’s Pyron officers, I think, but you were especially disliked.”

Dab nodded. “Gor was my father by an Aeron body servant. Perhaps Tox knew it.”

“Gor was your father? Is he dead, then?”

“I no longer consider him my father. He is as culpable as Tox in the Botein genocide. By now, he and the whole Bhetangu fleet are on their way back here. We have maybe a year before they arrive. Then the war will begin in earnest.”

“This must be most difficult for you.”

Dab sighed. “It is what it is. Maybe I’ll learn to call Deneb home. At least I am accepted here.”

“Yes. I hear that the Mediator is granting asylum to any of the formerly infected Bhetangu who ask for it.”

Dab nodded. “It’s true. If you know about it, why do you remain a prisoner?”

Gil held onto her hand. “For your protection.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Though I do not yet remember loving you in the past, I have grown fond of you, Dab. As long as my memories remain locked away, I cannot trust myself not to harm you. What if there is still some conditioning buried deep down? I would rather remain a willing prisoner than an unwilling murderer.”

Dab squeezed his hand. “Seek asylum, Gil. I trust you.”

Gil sighed. “I will consider it.”

---

Dab offered to share her apartment with Gil, but he politely refused. “I appreciate your offer, Dab, but I will accept the accommodations provided me by the OM. I don’t want you implicated in any bad thing I do.”

Dab laughed. “What bad thing are you planning on doing?”

He pointed to his head. “Nothing, as far as I am aware, but as long as I lack memories, I must assume the worst. As long as we have these fine men escorting us, I believe they can protect you from me.”

“At least come with me and meet Wayne.”

Gil looked at her and smiled. “Ah, so you’re on a first-name basis with the Mediator, now?”

“Most folks who work with him are,” said Dab. “It’s refreshingly informal around the OM. I’ll bet you can get a job in the kitchen, even. Some of the other Bhetangu are already working there.”

Gil froze. “Is the Mediator mad? Any one of us could be a sleeper agent!”

Dab shook her head. “You worry too much. Just because the atmosphere is informal does not mean security is lax. Herbert and William here are not our only protection.”

Gil looked around. “I don’t see a single uniform.”

“You need to stop thinking like a Bhetangu. There are half a dozen plain-clothed guards in this plaza alone.” Dab waved casually to several people, who smiled back and nodded. “See?”

“So they don’t trust us, either?”

“They are there to protect us, too, Gil. Every now and then there will be a citizen who takes exception to our presence. It’s not just us, either. Some of the Drae, those tall grey ones over there, hold animosity against other Drae. Prejudice is universal, unfortunately.”

Gil nodded. “Bhetangu seek to rule all other Races because we believe ourselves to be better than all others. Your point is well taken.”

There was a sudden flurry of activity on the far side of the plaza as several armed Bhetangu came charging in. With almost surgical precision, they shot five guards before they could even react.

People began screaming and running for the exits. Other Bhetangu blocked their path, weapons drawn but not firing.

The first Bhetangu began walking toward Dab and Gil. He leveled his weapon at Dab and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Penn had activated a dampening field before he fell.

The Bhetangu grunted and tossed the gun aside. He began to run toward Dab, pulling a knife out of his belt.

Gil shouted and jumped in front of Dab. “Hob, no! This must not be!”

The knife plunged into Gil’s chest, and he crumpled to the ground.

Hob bent down to retrieve the knife, but Dab kicked him in the temple, sending him sprawling backward. She stood over Gil, daring any of the other Bhetangu to attack.

Reinforcements entered the plaza, stunning the Bhetangu assassins, including Hob. Once the plaza was secure, they began tending to the wounded guards.

Penn stumbled over to where Dab stood over Gil. “Don’t remove the knife! He’ll bleed out! Are you alright?”

Dab nodded. “Gil…”

Gil looked up at her and smiled. “You will not die by any hand but mine… and I do not wish you dead.”

---

Dab sat on a bench in the hospital waiting area, still slightly dazed. Her blouse was covered in blood. Penn stood guard by the entrance, though he looked half dead himself.

Wayne stormed into the hospital waiting area. “You all right, Penn?”

Penn raised his hands. “Calm down, Boss. No one was seriously injured.” He pointed at the charred spot on his own chest. “I guess this new Jhelin body armor works pretty well, huh?”

“Glad to hear that. What happened?”

Dab looked up from her seat. “It was a programmed attack. I’m sure of it. Gil warned me this might happen. He saved my life, Wayne.”

Wayne sat on the bench beside her. “I’m sorry, Dab. I guess we should have listened to him. None of the infected have ever showed any further signs of programming after removal. Then again, none of the others had been infected nearly as long, either. They’ve all been taken back to the prison hospital. They won’t be punished, but we can’t release them until we can be sure no conditioning remains.”

“I understand. Are you sure I should remain free? Maybe I am not to be trusted, either.”

“You were never infected, Dab. I trust you. I guess I should have listened better, too. You warned me that Tox had agents.”

Dab sighed. “I’m glad none of the guards were killed. They are my friends.”

“Yeah, mine too. Any word on Gil?”

“I will assume that he still lives until I am told otherwise.”

He handed her a small pack. “Lynne sent a change of clothing for you. It should fit. You and my wife are close to the same size.”

Dab smiled. “Thank her for me. I must look quite dreadful.”

“Maybe a little. Are you okay?”

“I am unharmed. I do not know when I will be okay.”

Doc Kelly came into the waiting area. After nodding to Wayne, he addressed Dab. “The knife pierced his heart. It’s a good thing you didn’t try to remove it, or it is unlikely we could have saved him. As it is, it will be a while before he is strong enough to leave his bed, but he is at least out of danger. He’s asking for you.”

Dab sat up. “He’s awake?”

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to him.”

“Um, let me change first.”

---

Gil smiled weakly when he saw her enter the recovery room. “Good, they did not get to you. I doubt I could have stopped two knives.”

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. You could have died.”

“Better that I die than you.” Gil frowned. “You are no traitor, Dab. If anyone is a traitor, it’s me.”

Dab blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“When the attack began… it triggered something in me, too. I nearly killed you myself. I warned you that I might still be programmed.”

“You didn’t do it, though. You saved me.”

Gil frowned. “What we had before was a lie, Dab. I’m sorry, but I only loved you because Tox ordered me to.”

“What?”

“After Markab, she suspected she had been betrayed. Since you and Job were the only uninfected officers still alive, she could not trust either of you. She ordered us to watch you both, to get close to you if we could. When she saw that I made you laugh, she told me I should love you… and so I did.”

Dab shook her head. “I would have detected a lie!”

Wayne shook his head. “You are good at reading intentions, just like my wife is, but you’re not infallible. If Gil was under the control of the utokulod…”

Gil nodded. “My love for you was sincere, though it was not of my choosing. If I had learned of your transmission to the Markabans, I would have just as easily killed you.”

“You didn’t kill me in the attack, though. Why not?”

“When the compulsion came, I suddenly became conflicted. I wanted to kill you, but I did not want you to die. I don’t expect you to believe this, but… I love you.”

Wayne smiled and nodded. “We have seen at least one documented case where intense emotion can break utokulod conditioning. Love has set you free, Gil. If you’ll excuse me, I think I should leave you two alone.”

As the door slid closed, Dab turned away. “I don’t know if I can trust you, now.”

“I don’t blame you. I hate myself for the things I was compelled to do. Tox, and everyone in the High Command who authorized the use of the utokulod, deserve death. If you trust nothing else, though, know this. I love you.”

“Of course you do. Tox ordered it.”

“No. That conditioning is broken. I remember the things we did together, but my love for you comes from these last few months. You were the first one I saw upon waking. You have been my constant companion.”

“I only did that because of what I thought we meant to each other!”

“Yes. Even though you had no guarantee that I would ever remember you. Even though I named you traitor. I am not the same man who you once loved. For the first time in twenty years, I am free to be my own man! And this free man loves you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Gil gave her a half-smile. “If you wish me dead, I will die by your hand alone.”

“I… don’t wish you dead.”

“Then we have a good starting point, at least. I expect you will need time to sort it all out. I will be here, when you do.”

---

Dab stepped out into the warm Denebian sunlight and contemplated her future. The man she had always known as Gil had been an imposter. His love for her had been engineered, tailored to keep her under surveillance until Tox decided she needed to die.

Now she had a chance to know the real Gil, the one who, when given a choice, loved her enough to put himself in harm’s way to save her.

Dab smiled. She and Gil would have to have a talk about that. She might be Casteless, but she still had the combat training of a Pyron. Much as she admired his courage, he might want to let her handle the assassin, next time.

Penn fell into step beside her. “Good Morning, Dab.”

“Morning, Herbert. Say, would you and the others like to learn some Bhetangu defensive arts? I promise to go easy on you.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, I assure you it won’t be fun. I won’t go that easy on you.”

Penn laughed. “Understood. I’ve seen how fast you can move. I’m just glad you’re on our side.”

“You know what? So am I.” Dab looked around her and realized that for the first time in her life, she was home.