The Right Answer 1: Revelations

[madimpossibledreamer]

Thank goodness for libreoffice automatic saves. I’m good at physically saving but sometimes I try to open too many things on this computer. I got the same vibe in the last paragraph, but no idea if it’s better or worse than the original because that’s gone.

Main Points:
Crusade (The Right Answer)
Chapter Summary: Gideon shares what he's worked out through his trust exercise.
Word Count: 2040
Rating: Teen

 

         Gideon tries really, really hard to relax, to actually read the book in front of him, because one way or another, he’ll have his answer soon. He tries, but he’s too keyed up, and sure, he could go down, hit the exercise deck, stretch his legs a bit, but he doesn’t want to do this all sweaty in comparison to an always put together Galen. Not, he guesses, that it’d matter for the technomage, but he’s already a bundle of nerves enough about this, and for all that Galen treats him like an equal, as much as a technomage can treat anyone as an equal, that still doesn’t quite feel right.
         He can feel Galen, sort of. He doesn’t always, a sense of presence in his mind, and nobody’s paged him to alert him to Galen’s ship docking, but then, that doesn’t always mean everything. When he gets that feeling, he supposes, it’s a sort of technomage courtesy knock, a way of announcing his presence without announcing it to absolutely everyone.
         The shape that sits in the chair across from him looks almost right. For a bet, he’s giving equal chances Galen conjured a hologram and this is a dream.
         “You seem troubled, Matthew. Penny for your thoughts, as the saying goes.” He actually throws an old United States penny, which Gideon only barely manages to catch, laughing and shaking his head. A dream, probably, then.
         “I don’t have a question for you this time. Because all this time, I wasn’t actually looking for the right question, was I? I was looking for the right answer.” He glances up, and Galen’s at least made a show of being more relaxed than Gideon, sprawling slightly on the chair, even though it’s very unlikely that he actually is. Technomages can’t read minds, he’s pretty sure, but they’ve made a pretty good study of it anyway, and it wouldn’t take much of anything special to determine that Gideon is really, really tense.
         “Sounds interesting,” Galen murmurs, casually disinterested in a way that says he’s anything but.
         Gideon nods and continues. “I’ve figured out why you thought I’d have to make a decision about loyalties.”
         “Oh? Do tell.” The careful absence of a reaction is all the hint Gideon needs to be sure it is actually a reaction.
         He’s turned it over in his mind so many times now. “The only thing that makes sense is that technomage powers are based off Shadow technology.”
         Galen’s eyes are wider than normal. “I hadn’t expected you to come to that conclusion.”
         Gideon smiles mirthlessly. Educated gamble or not, it’d certainly paid off. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
         “You already know the answer to that. But tell me, however did you work it out?” Again, Galen’s tone is casual, but he’s definitely wound up tight.
         He could just mention a single thing, but he feels like going through the whole chain of events, because Galen deserves that. “It was the only thing that would make sense. Dr. Chambers said your implants reminded her of the Shadow Pilots. Now, at the time, I took it to mean that they were so far out of her range of experience, but maybe it wasn’t just a metaphor. Pairing that with nanotechnology could allow for feats of ‘magic’. And if the Drakh plague was also Shadow nanotechnology, maybe I’d have a reason to be conflicted, to be unsure if I should turn you over to the labs. I might have thought about it if we hadn’t been doing our little Q&A sessions, if you hadn’t indicated that it would kill you and might not even work. The only thing I hadn’t worked out is why it would kill you. Sure, we’re desperate, but I wouldn’t send you to a doctor I didn’t trust. Dr. Franklin, probably.”
         Galen swallows, for once being the first to look away. “Even now, there are those in your government who desire the power that Shadow technology could provide. If they heard of the opportunity, they would stop at nothing. My life would be but a means to an end. And they are hardly the only ones. Humans are a dying race. Many have done far worse things, in the desperate need to continue their lives.”
         He pauses. The beaming smile is nothing but sad. “After this, I suspect, I will never be welcome among my own people again. But for you…” He trails off and begins anew. “I still cannot and will not answer every question, but I will attempt to tell you what I can. Technomage nanites do not last long outside the technomage. I’m not sure if they would last long enough for a thorough investigation, not unless taken in sufficient quantities. Quantities that would kill me. I have no natural immune system of my own, not after the procedure, and thus…” he smiles and shrugs, an elaborate gesture. “You wouldn’t even need a Drakh plague to kill me. As I said to your question before, if with far less detail.”
         It hits Gideon then. When talking about morality, about philosophy, there’s a classic puzzle they use—a train is barreling down on five people, but if you hit the switch, it’ll switch tracks to just hit one. This is that test, only there’s far more than six lives at stake, and Galen is the sole person on the other tracks.
         Some would argue that the only right choice, the only moral choice, is to sacrifice Galen. He’s a good guy, sure, trying to help out, but is he worth an entire planet full of lives? A whole race? Never mind the fact that it’s not guaranteed to work.
         It had been—he’s pretty sure Galen would call it—a calculated risk to get involved in the first place. Because he’s working with bright people, of which Gideon is pretty sure even as Captain he doesn’t rank among the top five on the ship, and if he’d worked it out others couldn’t be too far behind. But Galen got involved anyway, knowing this, knowing it meant exile from his own people. Because he felt responsible, in some way, because he cares, despite himself maybe. Because of Matthew.
         There’s more to look into, but he’s curious. He wants to know, but it’s not a question he absolutely needs answered. “Why didn’t you give me a few more hints? You’re good at that.”
         “I have been, as little as I dare. Despite knowing the price, if was caught. I answered what I could, because you asked.” Matthew swallows. That’s as good as Galen saying he trusts Gideon in return, and the trust of a technomage, of Galen, is hard-won, turning the air heavy.
         “If I hadn’t figured it out, would you have told me?”
         It’s a little disappointing when Galen shakes his head, but it’s only what he expected.
         He’d been told not to trust Galen, but he can’t help it. How could you not trust someone who consistently saved your life, over and over again?
         “Well, I—” Just saying he trusts the guy and hopes Galen trusts him in return isn’t enough for this, he’s pretty sure. “I’m not going to betray you.” The look in Galen’s eyes says that he disbelieves, not because Gideon is lying but because he thinks that the Captain might not have a choice in the matter. He doesn’t say the words out loud, however. “They said that a lot of Shadow technology requires some sort of sacrifice to work, and worst-case scenario we’d all have to use these nanites for the rest of our lives. That’s not exactly a cure.”
         The pleased smile Galen tries to hide by glancing away is...honestly Gideon wouldn’t mind seeing it again. “I feel as if I should be offended.”
         “None meant,” the Captain clarifies.
         “That goes without saying,” Galen agrees amiably.
         “Could you...if someone got infected…” he starts wondering, and the technomage shakes his head.
         “My talents lie elsewhere. Of those who might deign to get involved, Alwyn might.” He still looks a little amused as Matthew makes a face. “Theoretically, technomage healing could cure just about anything, if we know what we’re looking for. Based on the reports, we may, as it seems the plague mutates very slowly. We do know that it is nanotechnology, and thus...”
         He trails off, waiting for Gideon to follow. “They might already be ready for it. It could be programmed to neutralize certain things already, and I’m guessing the technomages pissed their overlords off by not getting involved.”
         “It might not be as easy as all that. The nanites of a technomage respond to their will, and can thus adapt just as readily. But…” He sighs. “The outcome would be far from certain, and if it is programmed to...respond badly to a technomage’s presence, then an attempt to heal could very easily end up killing the victim as their body becomes a battleground. Never mind the fact that you could never find enough, be fast enough, to cure an entire planet.” He’d sidestepped specifics about the technomages’ origin, again, but that might just be for the time being.
         Yes, I still trust him, he tells the annoying voice again. And—wait. “...Could a telepath interfere with your powers?”
         “I haven’t had the occasion to test that particular question,” he responds, sounding a bit annoyed, and then adds, seeing the Captain’s look of alarm, “I don’t believe so, no. Though how much of that is the founder of our order seeking to differentiate ourselves from the desired path as an army for the Shadows, I do not know. And, before you ask, they have attempted to use the entirety of the telepaths still on Earth to deactivate the plague with no such luck. Perhaps with an amplifier, a better result could be achieved.” Judging by his tone, though, he doubts it.
         “I suppose leftover Vorlon technology might be helpful here, too…” Gideon muses, and Galen looks away, taking a deep breath.
         “I’d be of little aid there, I’m afraid. I have little hope of a warm welcome.” He hesitates to say it, even though Gideon already knows why. “Before you ask, the Drakh have no way to program or send additional instructions, such as a deactivation signal. And why should they, when chaos and destruction were their only aims? Much of their technology was constructed without failsafes, given that they believed the weak to be without value. Hypocritical, in that even they were imperfect, and yet hadn’t the sense to purge themselves for mistakes.” His voice is a little vicious at the end, but then, that’s not exactly unexpected, with the new context. And not just toward the Shadows, which confirms some of Gideon’s other thoughts he’d been hoping he’d been wrong about.
         He’s going to try to reassure Galen, even if he doesn’t have a clue if he’s going to be effective. “Hey, this is something. And it’ll be easy enough to talk about this without exposing your secret. Nanotech in the hands of the Drakh kind of points in a direction for research without any extra insight needed.”
         Galen glances at his hands blankly, and Gideon gets the feeling he’s considering saying something about it being too late for secrets. Then he glances back up and smiles, but it’s nothing like his usual smiles, a little too hollow to mean anything. “Thank you, Matthew.”
         And then he wakes up at his desk, realizing halfway through fixing his uniform that he’s still clutching a penny in his hand. That he’d only gotten in the dream. He has to shake his head, smiling despite himself. “You theatrical bastard. I’m...going to do my best to make sure you don’t regret this either.” It doesn’t summon Galen, but he feels a little more settled anyway, like he’d gotten a response anyway. The technomage could have just let him live with the ambiguity, a technical hazard for having a friendship or (if he’s honest with himself about it) hopefully something more with one, but he’d actually bothered to give Gideon a physical sign it hadn’t been just a dream. Maybe he’s got it bad, but he carefully puts the penny away. A symbol that maybe he’s getting somewhere after all.