Flanagan Revealed
Olga listened in astonishment as I described my encounter with the alien. “So it pushed a button and sent you back here?”
“That’s what it looked like. But I’m not sure if I was there by design or by accident.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wonder if I woke up in the other place because of the pain or maybe because I was dying.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Maybe the machinery or whatever that keeps us here doesn’t handle pain well. Maybe pain interferes with how the interface processes signals from the brain.”
“Interface? Processing signals? What are you talking about?”
“Those words just came to me. Maybe the other me knows those terms and the memory broke through.”
“That’s a lot of maybes, darling.”
“True, but it’s the best theory I can come up with.”
“You aren’t thinking of doing something foolish to test your theory, are you?”
“Of course not.” I think Olga knew I was lying but she let it go for the time being.
I was released from the hospital a month later. The achievements of the storm detachments like my own had sold the General Staff on the storm doctrine. Brigadier General Massengale was put in command of the newly formed Storm Brigade comprised of four storm troop battalions, an artillery battalion and a walker battalion that included Olga’s company. The General Staff was experimenting with the idea of combining infantry, walkers and artillery under a single command. The idea was the brigade would punch a large hole in the enemy lines and be followed by several regiments to exploit the opening.
I was given the task of forming a new storm company with First Sergeant Cochrane and the other survivors of my last command as a core cadre. Cochrane had turned down an officer’s commission saying “I’ve been wearing stripes for too bloody long to trade ‘em in now.” Lieutenant Dylan was my only surviving platoon leader so I made him my executive officer. The rest became squad leaders and platoon sergeants distributed evenly among the four platoons.
We were back at Camp Sherwood for a few months training before heading back to the front to participate in a new offensive. Since we had a whole battalion of walkers assigned to us, the rules about socializing with the women who crewed them were relaxed. I usually ate meals with the other officers of my battalion but at least once or twice a week I ate with Olga. At this point it was probably an open secret that we were a couple but for the sake of discretion we never engaged in public displays of affection.
Olga and I also resumed our liaisons in unoccupied barracks buildings. We would only risk meeting once a week. I was with lying on the small bed with Olga nestled in my arm when I finally broached the subject that had been on my mind for a while.
“Remember back in the hospital when I talked about pain interfering with whatever is controlling all this?”
“Yes. I also remember you saying you weren’t going to do anything foolish.”
“Hear me out. I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. I’ll need to sustain a painful life threatening injury. It will have to look like an accident though. I’ll get sent to an asylum if Massengale thinks I’m suicidal crazy.”
“But you are sounding crazy and suicidal, darling.”
“I’m tired of going on the way we are now. I need some answers. Will you help me or do I have to do this alone?”
“Give me some time to think about it.”
We didn’t speak as we got dressed and only exchanged a quick peck on the lips when we left.
I returned to my barracks room and spent a few minutes catching up on paperwork before turning off the light and crawling into bed. As soon as I closed my eyes a wave of lightheadedness swept over me and I passed out.
I opened my eyes and was in the arena where I had beheaded Flanagan. The arena was empty but next to me on the platform stood Olga, a wide eyes expression of surprise on her face. We were both in the uniform of that other place
“Is it really you?” she asked.
“It’s me, Olga. I’ve dreamed of this place before.”
“It wasn’t a dream, it was a memory.” We turned and saw Flanagan standing on the platform. Instead of the tattered rags I had last seen him in, Flanagan’s brown uniform looked freshly cleaned and he wore a red beret with a pair of metal badges pinned to it.
“It was your memory, Marshall Rudko. On August 12, 2092 you personally executed Colonel Sean Flanagan of the European Union Combined Command after you captured the city of Antwerp. You had to celebrate your victory alone though because General Krupinski was leading the assault on Brussels.”
A rush of memories came to me. I remembered Colonel Flanagan. After he had led a spirited defense of Antwerp he had surrendered what was left of his command after a month long siege. His stand had slowed the advance of my army through Belgium and bought valuable time for the EU forces. I had sent my lover General Olga Krupinski south with several divisions to lay siege to Brussels while I dealt with Antwerp. I had rewarded Flanagan’s noble actions by having him tortured and interrogated. Finally in a massive rally for my troops I had beheaded the broken man.
I looked at Olga. She had undergone a startling transformation. Crow’s feet bracketed her eyes and numerous wrinkles were visible on her face. Her dark hair was streaked with grey. She appeared twenty-five or thirty years older. Her expression said I had undergone the same change. I looked down and saw my hands were just as wrinkled as hers.
I turned on Flanagan. “What’s happened to us?”
“This is your true appearance. It took many years to rise to the top of the Sino-Russian Army. You, Marshall Rudko, are considered one of the top military minds in history. General Krupinski, you are a fine tactician in your own right. Together you are a formidable team who extended the reach of the Sino-Russian Alliance across the European continent. That is why the two of you are here.”
“What does that mean? And just who the hell are you?”
“The simulation you’re in, the Brown Green War, is a test my people are conducting.”
“So this is all some sort of shared dream world?” Olga asked.
“A crude explanation but it will suffice. Your actual physical bodies are in a comatose state while your minds are engaged in the simulation.”
“Who are you?” I repeated.
“I am one of the operators of the simulation. I’m the one who inserted the memories into your dreams. I’m the one who inserted the Flanagan character that you met on the battlefield then erased all references to him.”
“So you’re the alien I saw when I woke up.”
“That’s right, Marshall Rudko. Your awakening was an unexpected side effect of saving your life. I may not be able to do it again which is why I’m taking the risk of contacting you directly.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are planning something extremely foolish and dangerous.” Even without looking I knew Olga was giving me a smug glare. “This may be a simulation but if you die here you will really be dead. It was an unavoidable feature when we adapted the technology to use on your species. Your minds can’t accept dying in the simulation so if you die in here, you will be brain dead in the real world.”
“So I really almost died in that village?”
“Yes. While we need to keep as many subjects alive as possible, there is a certain level of randomness built in the simulation to keep it challenging. I intervened and changed your fatal wound into something survivable. But I inadvertently woke you up in the process. I was able to erase all traces of you waking up otherwise the other operators would have killed you. So I am here now to tell you to be careful and don’t try to kill yourself.”
“Then tell us what’s really going on. Why are we here?”
“All I can tell you right now is that the fate of your species rests on the outcome of the war. I restored part of your memories so that you can apply that knowledge to the war. If you want your species to survive, the Greens must win the war in the simulation.”
“Why? What are you testing in humans?”
“I don’t have time to explain everything. The longer I’m talking to you, the greater the risk of discovery. Just remember you have to win the war.”
“Flanagan”, Olga, and the arena abruptly vanished. I woke and sat up in my bed. The alien had left me a lot to think about. The thought that nagged me the most was that he was lying.
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