Remade

Remade

Remade

By Danielle Novotny

Remade

Copyright © 2018 by Danielle Novotny

First published August 2018

Cover design © Danielle Novotny

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

The characters in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-0-692-16427-3

To my parents, thank you for the years of unending support

and for letting me live out this dream.

To Lauren, the best ghost-namer I ever could have asked for.

I hated being late.

Anyone who knew Aliya Rathburn understood that being late was among my top five pet peeves. I also hated reckless drivers. But today, I had to be one because I was late.

My Audi purred down the highway as I passed yet another driver, and I cringed knowing that I probably received one of two glances: a glare or a look of shock. No sane person should be driving the way I am today, but like I said, being late stressed me out more than having to drive like a lunatic.

I looked in the rearview mirror to confirm that I received a glare, and I sighed. I swore it was not my fault that I had to drive this way. At least I managed to look presentable – brown wavy hair orderly and not frizzy as it hung below my shoulders, and enough eye makeup to look classy and mature – in my morning frenzy.

My boss had been trying to set up this meeting for months, and – of course, today of all days – I encountered misfortune after misfortune just on my way out the door. The milk had gone bad, I spilled coffee on the floor, and overnight my phone didn’t charge, leaving me with twenty percent battery life. And of course I’d have to use the GPS on my phone just to get to the meeting. But – joy of all joys – it had also snowed overnight leaving the roads sloppy and occasionally slick. Fantastic.

I shouldn’t even be attending this meeting. As a junior consultant at my firm, I was always involved in setting up meetings – not actually attending them. But Frank came down with the flu yesterday, and Maria was off on vacation which left me as the only other option. With this being my first big opportunity at 3B Consulting (Building Better Businesses, which always struck me as simultaneously catchy and corny), I couldn’t let my boss down. Especially when the CEO of a company we’ve been trying to get work with for months had finally contacted us about meeting to discuss potential work.

So now all the responsibilities fell to me. Not that I was mad about it; I loved my job, but this would be more exciting if I wasn’t so flustered this morning.

My fortunes lifted for the first time today as I hit the highway because there were very few cars out on the roads. Not really a surprise though, considering the weather. I took a deep breath and hit the accelerator, praying that I’d reach the office on time.

I listened to radio reports as I zoomed along just to make sure I

wasn’t driving straight into road closures. After half an hour of frantic driving I knew that I only had one more exit before I could get off the highway, and then it was just five more minutes on backroads to the office. I couldn’t help smiling as I realized that I was going to make it.

A semi in the middle lane caught my eye. White trailer, blue cab, it would have escaped my attention altogether had the brake lights not lit up. At sixty miles per hour I knew I could only tap my brakes to prevent potentially spinning out on the slick highway, so that’s what I did. The truck, however, didn’t seem to be slowing.

I panicked as I realized that I wouldn’t slow down enough to avoid the truck if it left its lane, so I hit the brake harder.

Both on our brakes, the truck and I continued side by side toward the underpass, my exit directly on the other side.

And then the truck started to skid.

Rapidly spinning out, the truck veered into my lane. I tried to look up into the truck’s cab to see if something had happened to the driver, but it was too close to get a good view through the truck’s window.

The squealing of breaks filled my ears as my hands gripped the steering wheel, holding on for dear life. Because there was no shoulder in the underpass, I realized that I would be pinned between the truck and the wall.

I had heard of people who said that time seems to slow down during traumatic moments, with each detail of every movement clear to the eye. That wasn’t the case here.

One second I was watching the truck’s cab approaching with feet still between us, and in the next second it was smashed against my door.

The impact as the semi’s cab hit my door was bone-shaking. The metal door puckered inward, rapidly reducing the breathable space inside my car. Jagged cracks raced across my windshield.

I didn’t even have enough time to scream because I was suddenly thrown to the right across the center console – my seat belt had snapped. I closed my eyes and felt shattered glass cut into my left cheek. Pain erupted everywhere, and then I was gone.

White. That was all I registered as my eyelids sluggishly opened. So much white.

Where was I?

I struggled to dredge up a memory of any kind and panicked when nothing readily came to mind. What happened to me?

That’s when it hit me – the accident. I remembered the screeching of tires, the white cab of the truck, shattered glass cutting into my face as other pains blossomed throughout my body… I was hit by a truck on the highway. So where exactly was I now?

It was quiet here. The only sound was my panicked breathing. That realization – that I was hearing myself breathe – brought a slight relief; after all, if I was breathing, I couldn’t be dead. Right?

So what happened to me? If I wasn’t dead, I should have been seriously hurt in that accident. My body felt heavy, probably from sedation or something like that, but I didn’t feel any pain from injuries.

I wanted to sit up, to see something other than the pure white scene in front of my eyes that offered no answers to my questions.

Another realization: I was lying down. The whiteness above me was just a ceiling.

My arms were heavy and almost entirely unresponsive as I tried to shift them into any sort of position that would allow me to sit up. I struggled for a while until my hands were positioned under my shoulders to lift myself upright. I pushed with all my available strength and gained a few inches of elevation. My head, heavy on my shoulders, lolled back slightly, but I was finally able to see more of what was around me.

The room was small, only containing the bed in which I currently lay and a long, tan desk which sat opposite the door to my right. There was no chair visible around the desk, but there could have been a stool, something lower than the desk’s height. I didn’t see anything on the desk, and that confused me again. This was the cleanest room I had ever been in – no pictures on the walls, and the white sheets of my single bed were completely spotless.

In fact, the Spartan cleanliness of this place would have reminded me of a hospital if only there were medical equipment scattered around my small room. But there was nothing to suggest that I would be in a hospital. No machines to monitor my heartbeat, no IVs, no apparatuses of any kind. Maybe I’d been healing and unconscious for so long that they weren’t needed?

I stared straight ahead at the white wall as panicked thoughts crept into my mind. Everything was so empty and pristine… maybe I was dead, and this was how you’re introduced to the afterlife. I worried about my family and friends. How would my death impact them? What would they do—?

Then the door – the same shade of tan as the desk – opened. A tall, model-thin woman with ivory skin walked in with a pleasant smile on her face. Her movements were very smooth and even, as if she was skating across the floor. She wore a knee-length, nondescript, light blue dress and wasn’t carrying anything. Her hair, black and long, was straight with a white shock of hair framing the left side of her face. And her eyes! They were the most vivid shade of green I had ever seen. I couldn’t help but stare as she stopped at the foot of my bed.

How are you feeling? she asked in a clear and pleasant voice. It was the voice of someone who had repeated this dialogue many times before. Still taking in her looks, it took me a moment to register that she had asked a question.

Uh… I feel fine, thank you.

Wonderful. Genuine cheerfulness oozed from that one word, but it only made me wary.

She crossed the room and took a seat behind the desk. In a smooth, quick gesture she passed her right hand over the surface of the desk, and the tan wood changed into what I could only describe as a computer screen.

My mouth fell open. What was this place?

The strange woman tapped away for a few moments, moving charts and text on the screen. Then her eyes snapped back up to mine.

Well, Aliya, it looks like you had quite the accident. Not a flicker of concern or sorrow crossed her face. It seemed like she was just saying what she had to, the way I would imagine a robot conversing. But something else caught my attention.

She actually pronounced my name correctly. Anyone who ever read my name on a piece of paper would pronounce it Al-ee-ya, and I’d have to correct them – it’s Al-ee-yuh. Teachers, interviewers, doctors, they’d all say it the same way. Except for this woman.

How did you know how to pronounce my name? The combination of nerves and a dry mouth had me choking out the question.

Her eyes widened a tiny bit, perhaps taking in my nervous state, before her benign smile returned as she answered, That’s how it’s listed in your chart.

Oh. I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. This was all becoming too weird for me, and I needed to start getting answers.

Where am I?

She opened her mouth to answer but froze. Her eyes darted over to the door and then back to mine. In a sudden transformation her expression broke into a huge smile, which I assumed was supposed to calm me.

You’re recovering. She thought that vague answer was supposed to placate me?

Recovering where? I pressed, and her face went blank yet again, as if she glitched.

What was going on?

You’re in a healing facility on Callais, though I’m sure that only makes you more confused, a deeper male voice cut in from the doorway.

Finding myself free of the sedation, I whipped my head toward the door and watched as someone who clearly appeared to be a doctor entered. He wore the typical white doctor’s coat with dark blue scrubs and shoes. His hands were pushed deep into his coat pockets, his expression a mixture of wariness and exhaustion. He couldn’t have been more than forty with a face as clear and perfect as his, yet his hair was thoroughly salt-and-pepper colored. His light blue eyes were focused on me, but as he moved into the room, they switched to stare at the woman.

Who are you? I asked. None of what he had said made any sense, but he had given me some semblance of an answer.

Jira, you may leave us now, he brusquely addressed her while ignoring my question.

Jira, still wearing her beatific smile, immediately stood and nodded before she exited the room. The doctor strolled over to the desk and sat in the chair. He tapped the screen for a few moments and then looked my way. There was a new level of focus apparent in his eyes.

How do you feel? It was more of a command than a question.

I’ve already been asked that, and I’m fine. Now who are you?

I couldn’t hide my annoyance from him ignoring my earlier question.

I’m Doctor Gydyon Givray, he replied in a bored tone. Do you feel any pain? Any unpleasant sensations? It seemed like he wasn’t interested in idle chitchat.

I was so done. Sitting upright, I slammed my palms into the bed and snapped, That’s not enough! What happened to me? Why was she, I pointed at the door through which Jira had left, so weird? Where exactly is Callais, and since when are hospitals called healing facilities?

None of my shouted questions seemed to faze him until the last one. At my mention of hospitals, his eyebrows shot up, and then he dropped his focus to the desk-screen thing and typed away.

Quite observant, he mumbled, more to himself than to me.

Please, I begged, I’m scared and confused, and all I want are answers. Real answers.

Doctor Givray paused but remained staring at the screen. He sighed and closed his eyes, and then his right hand swept across the desk in the opposite direction that Jira’s had. The screen faded away, and the desk returned to normal.

Placing both palms on the desk, Doctor Givray stood and reopened his eyes to look at me.

I’ll start with your question about Jira; it’s the easiest to answer, he began. She’s a med-droid, a specifically designed android that monitors those who are recovering and tends to their needs.

"An android? Jira looked so normal aside from how smoothly she moved, how unemotional her tone was, and her hesitation in actually answering my questions. That was the most realistic android I’ve ever seen…"

Feeling completely normal after the accident, human-like androids, weird desk-computer things… None of it made sense, and I started to think that this was a hallucination from pain medication. Obviously I was in a hospital, but the weird things I was seeing and hearing were a result of me being loopy on drugs.

I should have ignored it all and gone back to sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking more questions. Okay, so then what happened to me?

He sighed as his expression crumbled. There was a sadness in his look that made my stomach sink.

You would have died had I not acted the way that I did, so please do not begrudge me for my actions. His words came slowly and full of caution.

"I would have died?" The question came out as a squeak because there suddenly wasn’t enough air in the room. Perhaps this wasn’t a delusion after all.

Yes, he sighed, the extent of your injuries had all of your organs in total shutdown. The other doctors didn’t know what to do.

He stared me down, daring me to object, but in my gut I felt that it was the truth. The only brief memory I had from the accident was filled with so much pain…

I remained silent out of shock. I would have – should have – died. My face was a frozen mask of surprise, and I couldn’t look Doctor Givray in the eye as he nonchalantly strolled to the foot of my bed.

He stopped and clasped his hands like he was waiting for me to respond. I still couldn’t remember how to properly breathe, so I remained fixated on the white sheets.

Are you alright? He sounded so anxious that I had to force myself to remember how to inhale and exhale.

Doctor Givray waited patiently at the foot of my bed while I thought the information I had received.

No, I wasn’t alright. First, I thought I had died, then I thought I was having drug-induced visions. But now… My crash should have killed me. I was dying in a hospital when he found me. Ignoring the question of how he found me, I contemplated my new non-hallucination situation.

Evidently, I was somewhere unknown to me where I was recovering, as Jira had said. I had all my memories and could move without pain, so clearly I was fully healed. So…

What happens now? I hesitantly asked.

That’s entirely up to you, he replied.

Up to me? If I’m healed, shouldn’t I be able to go home? That was usually the choice in any hospital. Oh wait, I reminded myself, this place was called a healing facility.

He paused, and that silence – where there should have been a definitive yes – caused me to panic once more. My heart started to pound in my chest, and my eyes zeroed in on his face.

Doctor Givray looked confused, like he was deciding between two choices of equal difficulty. When he finally answered, it was in a whisper. No.

I felt my control shatter as the full weight of that word hit. My breathing came in gasps, and my hands shook in fear.

Am I being held captive? I gasped at him.

His face lit up in shock at my question. No! Absolutely not! You’re not a prisoner here. He rushed through his words attempting to soothe my panic.

Because I believed the genuine surprise on Doctor Givray’s face, I accepted his answer as truth. I wasn’t being held against my will.

I calmed down slightly, my breathing settling into a near-normal rhythm.

However, he had more to say.

But you can’t return home. Ever.

I froze.

I can’t go home?

Doctor Givray stood up straighter as he took a breath. Yes. This will be a lot to take in, so let it… sink in before you react.

My stomach sank through the floor at the foreboding in his request, and I looked back down at my bed as I focused on my breaths. Whatever was coming… surely it wasn’t going to be as bad as hearing that I should have died. Right?

Your Earth has long believed that it was the only source of life in the galaxy. That is not true. It has merely been… kept in the dark because it is such a young and immature planet.

"My Earth?" My eyes snapped up to his face in confusion. What the hell did he mean by that? I might not be worldly enough to know where Callais was, but weren’t we on Earth?

Well, technically it’s called Terra… out here in the greater galaxy, he finished uncertainly, as if he was waiting for me to really freak out.

The greater galaxy? An impossible thought popped into my head. "As in, we’re not on Earth?" My disbelief was apparent in every word.

No, he huffed, I said before that we’re on Callais. And it would be easier for you to start calling your former planet Terra. That’s how everyone else knows it.

My entire body froze. I wasn’t on Earth? How was that even possible? NASA hadn’t found other habitable planets within our reach, and space travel was utterly inaccessible to the vast majority of the population.

Again, I felt like I was in some nightmarish dream where nothing made sense. I could reasonably accept that I had almost died in the car crash, and that someone somewhere had built a robot that could pass for a human. But being on a different planet? That stretched the limits of my beliefs.

I don’t understand, I whispered.

I can imagine, Doctor Givray sympathized. But you do need to accept that you’re no longer on Terra.

"Okay, Terra, I said while I rolled my eyes. So we’re not on Terra; we’re on Callais… which is… a different planet. One what hasn’t interacted with my planet because you’ve deemed us immature?" If Earth – ugh, Terra – had been so undeveloped, why hadn’t they intervened to bring us up to speed?

Yes, very good, he praised. Now, we’ve always known about Terra’s existence and have monitored the progression of life on the planet. Roughly five decades ago we considered making our presence known, but there were certain… ah, arguments which prevented any action from being taken. I was surprised to see annoyance in his expression.

What kind of arguments? Not on Earth. New planet with intelligent life. No previous interaction with Earth. And arguments. There was a lot to keep track of.

Certain record keepers – those who capture the history of the galaxy – wanted Terra to be… an experiment. To see if they would eventually advance themselves to our level without any outside influence. He looked up at me apologetically, as if it was somehow his fault.

Well that was just rude. They had basically been watching us like a Petri dish, waiting to see what would eventually grow. I felt an immense displeasure develop for Doctor Givray and the other haughty rule-makers of the galaxy. My head was spinning from all the new information, but one thing didn’t make sense.

I don’t understand… So if the rest of the galaxy wasn’t supposed to interact with us, how did you get me to…? I couldn’t remember what the name of this place was.

Callais, he filled in. That has been my secret for the past decade. I’ve been monitoring a small area of Terra for some time now, trying to understand their developmental process and make predictions for their future. Naturally, the best place to observe Terrans and their changes would be at the places you call hospitals. I didn’t realize how hard it would be at the beginning.

He paused for a moment to check that I was still following. When I first came to the hospital where I found you, I had to set up an understanding with the other doctors. Clearly I don’t have all the documents Terra requires to blend in or be considered a Terran doctor, so I revealed my hand to a small, trusted group. I agreed to provide them with some advanced knowledge to save their more dire patients, and in return they allowed me to freely interact with other doctors and patients. That’s how I came to find you.

So you broke the rules, I accused.

Yes… and no, he chuckled to himself. Because I’m not significantly altering the way things operate on Terra, I can go about my work without repercussions from the King or his Council.

It was like he knew what information to share to throw me off my original line of questioning, and I was already so confused that I wasn’t taking time to really think.

You have a king? Maybe Earth wasn’t as under-advanced as the rest of the galaxy thought. After all, most countries stopped having kings, at least in the medieval style, many years ago.

Yes, the king and his family are the most powerful people in the galaxy. Well, most of it. He shrugged as if this wasn’t important information.

I took a deep breath and shook my head; I needed to get back on track. I had so many unanswered questions and couldn’t let things like galactic kings distract me.

Okay, but how did you save me? You said I was dying? If regular doctors couldn’t save me, I had no idea how this man was able to. Medicine must be really advanced here.

Well, like I said, there was little hope for your recovery. It’s a miracle that you didn’t die in the accident. When your body started to shut down and become unresponsive, I knew that Terran knowledge couldn’t save you. My comings and goings were never an issue once I established who I was, but in that moment it was difficult to persuade the other doctors that I had to take you with me. And they really didn’t like the idea of you not coming back…

Hearing it again – that I couldn’t go home – hit me just as hard as the first time. Without realizing it, I leaned so far forward that I was nearly folded in half, and my knuckles were white because of how tightly I clutched the sheets.

His head dipped and a melancholy expression crossed his face.

Saving you wasn’t easy. I had to greatly modify your body with the technologies we have – technologies that Terra couldn’t begin to imagine. The things you should be able to do now… they go beyond what a normal Terran can do. It wouldn’t be safe for you, or for them, if you were to return.

My chest tightened and I couldn’t form words anymore. He had changed me, and because of that, I couldn’t go home. Ever.

What had I done? All this was a result of my frantic rush that morning – I briefly wondered how many days had passed since the accident, but I pushed that aside