Post-Human Trilogy (46 page)

33

“Ar
e you seeing that?” Rich asked Djanet as his eye caught a glimpse of one of the androids pulling a limp body with him out into the blackness of space like a hawk carrying a mouse back to its nest.

“Yes!” Djanet shouted in distress. She immediately tried to patch into Old-timer’s mind’s eye, but there was no response. She followed that by attempting to contact James—again, there was no response. “I can’t get a hold of the cockpit! Something bad has happened!” Finally, she reached Thel, who was too distraught and too caught up in a firefight to respond. “The cockpit’s been compromised!”

“We’ve got to save whoever that is!” Rich shouted as he darted out of the safety of the wake and into pursuit of the fleeing android.

Suddenly, at that very instant, the Tesla tower came to life, connecting to the almost limitless energy of the Earth’s ionosphere and channeling a massive electromagnetic pulse to the hull of the Purist ship. In the blink of an eye, thousands of androids were suddenly rendered unconscious and blasted off the hull, scattering in all directions and forming, ever so briefly, the shape of a dark metallic flower, the petals floating into space. The escaping android was instantaneously obscured from view.

“Damn! I lost sight of him!” Rich shouted. “You got a visual?” Rich asked Djanet desperately.

“No,” she shook her head as she tried to see past the flood of unconscious android bodies. She craned her neck, and her eyes darted from focal point to focal point, but it was a wasted effort. “We lost him,” she finally said after a long, desperate minute.

In the cockpit, Thel blasted the last of the androids that had entered the room before the electrification of the hull, then collapsed on the floor next to James. Her face was streaked with tears, and her mouth was twisted into an expression of agony as the vision of Old-timer being murdered in front of her eyes replayed itself in a loop.

“Thel?” Djanet’s voice broke in on her mind’s eye. “What’s happening?”

“You better get in here,” Thel said through tears. “James is hurt badly, and they took Old-timer!”

There was a long pause.

“Can you repeat that?” Djanet asked, disbelieving.

“Old-timer is dead,” Thel repeated.

PART 2

1

James
flashed into Thel’s mind’s eye. “Thel?”

“James!” Thel shouted in reply, her expression still agonized.

“What happened? My body’s...unconscious.”

“An android broke into the cockpit, James!” Thel related, distraught. “It crushed your body and then it attacked the Purists and...and...” Her voice broke before she could say the words, but she struggled and managed to whisper, “they got Old-timer.”

In the mainframe, James was silent. The A.I. stood nearby, drinking in the anguish of his foe. “This is where we see the fallibility of human emotion. Even though you are here in cyberspace, your consciousness remains the same pathetic, predictable human pattern, and therefore subject to your pathetic, predictable human thoughts. The death of your friend clouds your judgment. Your situation is dire, and time is your utmost asset, and yet you waste it—unable to act.”

James turned to the A.I. and sneered. “I’ll kill you for this—and this time, there will be
no
coming back.”

The A.I. shook his head. “You can’t kill part of yourself, James—and you’re still wasting time.”

James addressed Thel. “Thel, how bad are the injuries to my body?”

Thel interfaced with James’s nans and downloaded a detailed physical diagnostic. “It’s bad, James. You’re body is in full recovery mode—it’s essentially dead and being rebuilt. You’re spine is broken in—oh my God—
seven
places. The list of injuries to the rest of your body is too long to go through. The nans are working on repairing it but—it may not be salvageable.”

James absorbed the information and instantly realized the repercussions. “That’s a problem, Thel.” James replied. “That stunt with the Tesla tower may have cleared away the androids and allowed you to escape, but I’ve also compromised the mainframe’s position.”

“What does that mean?” Thel asked. “Are you saying the aliens know where you are now?”

“Yes, and I can’t run anymore. I need to have a body to put my consciousness back into, or else I’m...” James didn’t finish his sentence.

“Can’t you just create another body, James?” Thel asked, confused.

James shook his head. “No. The planet is completely overwhelmed. I’d never be able to get off the surface.”

Thel’s concern steadily increased as she tried to think of a solution. “Could we make another body for you here?”

James shook his head again. “The nans onboard aren’t programmed to create a human body—the ones inside my body aren’t equipped for that either—and I can’t reprogram them because any signals with that much information would be blocked now by the alien A.I.” James sighed. “Thel, get my body to sick bay and do whatever you can to facilitate a recovery. I’ll try to buy time down here, but that body is my only chance.”

Thel nodded as the horror began to sink in. She looked up and saw Alejandra’s unconscious body being carted on a stretcher by medical staff as Governor Wong and Lieutenant Patrick looked on. “This man needs your help also,” she said.

A medic bounded over the unconscious body of an android and grimaced when he saw James. “Um, ma’am—he’s dead.”

“He’s
not
dead,” she retorted calmly. “He needs to be in sick bay. Get a stretcher.”

The medic appeared confused but knew he was dealing with a post-human, and with post-humans, all seemed possible. He bounded back over the android and called for another stretcher.

“James,” Thel began as she looked at James’s virtual image in her mind’s eye, “how long will our communications remain open?”

“I don’t know, Thel. It could go down at anytime or it could remain strong. It all depends on whether or not the alien A.I. deems our speaking to be a threat.”

“Then...James...if we get cut off—”

“As long as my body pulls through, everything will be okay, Thel.”

“I love you, James,” Thel said.

“I love you too, Thel.”

2

The androids that thudded one by one onto the rich, black forest floor of Cathedral Grove were different than the ones James had seen earlier—these ones were highly trained. They didn’t have any sort of visible weaponry, but they moved like soldiers on the hunt and, one supposed, they didn’t need weapons—their bodies were enough. They didn’t speak, but it was clear that they were communicating from the way they fanned out amongst the towering trees, moving almost as though they were one mind. They were hunting for signs of the mainframe. It wouldn’t be long until they found it.

“This little ruse won’t work for long, James,” the A.I. observed. “The alien A.I. will surely guess what you’ve done in short order, and then you’ll have to face reality, once and for all.”

“Maybe so. But for now, they literally can’t see the forest for the trees,” James replied.

He tried to remain focused on the androids, but, just as the A.I. had predicted, James’s human mind couldn’t stop going back to Old-timer. He was the closest thing James had ever had to a father figure. His own father’s relationship with him was strained at the best of times—one of the major pitfalls of a world where children eventually ended up the same age biologically as their parents was that it created absurd rivalries that became more like sibling squabbles than natural parent/child relationships. James’s father spoke to him, but the conversations were strained and sometimes years apart. The older Keats was a gifted scientist in his own right but, try as he might, he would never reach James’s level of success. This knowledge tortured him—so he withdrew. He didn’t want to face the fact that his offspring was far superior.

Old-timer, on the other hand, had no feelings of rivalry with James. He’d always seemed proud of the younger man—impressed by his accomplishments, yet secure in his own position as James’s mentor. He had known that James felt insecurity—self-doubt. He saw it as his place to reassure and strengthen James. Old-timer was the iron in James’s spine. Now James wasn’t sure how or if he could go on.

One of the androids knocked his metallic fist gently on the bark of one of the trees.

“Knock-knock,” the A.I. said, an amused grin painted across his ugly, twisted, mouth.

After a short moment, the android put its ear to the bark of the tree and listened.

“They’re on to you, James,” observed the A.I. “They’re scanning for abnormal electrical signals from the trees.”

James patched through to Thel. “Thel, I may have run out of time here.”

“No!” Thel shouted as she jumped from her seat next to James’s body in the sick bay of the Purist ship. “Your body isn’t ready yet!”

“Listen to me, Thel. I want you to do a lap around the sun and then head back to Venus. The aliens don’t know we’ve terraformed it—there’s no record of it for them to find. The Purists can be safe there. Hole up somewhere on the surface and hide.”

“James, I can’t lose you!” Thel yelled, her body rigid with fear.

“I can still return to that body, Thel. If the body pulls through fast enough, I’ll wake up safe and sound.”

“But...James, I can’t do anything but wait!”

James smiled, trying to reassure her. “Sometimes that’s all we can do, Thel. I love you. Whatever happens, protect the Purists.”

“Wait! James...don’t go. Just...talk to me for a few minutes first. I miss you.”

James watched as one of the androids dug his fist into the bark of a tree and examined it closely. He knew it was sending information back to the alien A.I. for analysis.

“It’s not my choice, Thel. I have to go. It’s time to spring a trap.”

3

“A trap?” the A.I. said, his arms folded across his chest as he shook his head. “You’re only delaying the inevitable and making it worse for yourself.”

“I’ll delay as long as I can—and maybe take a few of them with me while I’m at it.”

The android that had reached into the bark to retrieve a sample tilted its head as though it were listening to some sort of communication. It nodded its head slightly as if in acknowledgment, then stepped back from the tree and craned its neck, looking upward at the towering monolith, summing up its gargantuan foe.

“Yeah,” James said, smiling, “it’s
that
bad, freak.”

An instant later, the tree sprang into action, sprouting branches and wrapping itself around the android before pulling the metal body inside of the trunk. The android hadn’t had time to call for help or even make a noise before the nans inside of the trunk made short work of it, dismembering it and grinding the metal, leaving only metal shavings as fine as snowflakes to be expelled from the treetop.

The dozens of androids in the surrounding area looked up when they saw the metallic snow falling eerily in the ancient, dark forest. Machine or not, there was something resembling panic as they crouched into defensive postures, eyes skyward, heads on swivels.

“There’s just something so human about them, isn’t there, James?” the A.I. said before breaking into icy laughter.

“They’re a facsimile.”

In the next instant, the entire forest came alive and snatched the androids. Limbs flailed, screams escaped lips, and then the forest swallowed them whole. Only the memory of their screams echoed through the silence as the metal snow began to fall once again.

The A.I. arched an eyebrow. “Facsimile indeed.”

4

“What do you mean?” Thel asked the doctor who was attending to Alejandra.

“I mean, there is nothing wrong with her physically. I don’t know why she’s not waking up, but I can tell you her body is dying.”

“How can that be? There must be something wrong with her!” Lieutenant Patrick asserted.

“There wasn’t,” the doctor replied, “but now there is. She’s having small seizures every few minutes. We’re trying to limit them by keeping her hydrated and getting her the nutrients she needs through her IV, but every time we account for one imbalance, another arises. I’ve never seen anything like it. Her condition is getting worse by the minute. At this rate, she’ll be in a vegetative state or dead in a matter of hours. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You have to
do
something!” Lieutenant Patrick shouted.

“Calm,” Governor Wong said, putting his hand between Lieutenant Patrick and the doctor. “Doctor, there has to be an explanation.”

“I’m sure there is,” the doctor replied, “but it’s beyond anything I can provide. The equipment we have onboard won’t allow me to tell you anything more than what I already have. I’m sorry. There is simply nothing
I
can do for her.”

“Wait,” Thel said, reaching for the doctor’s arm as he turned to leave the room. “Maybe there’s something I could do for her.”

“What?” the doctor asked.

Thel turned to Lieutenant Patrick and Governor Wong. “With your permission, I could take some nans from my body and inject them into her. They could do a diagnostic and let us know what the problem is.”

The Purists looked astounded at the proposition, as did Rich and Djanet, who stood nearby.

“I don’t...I don’t think that is something that Alejandra would want,” Governor Wong replied.

“I’m only suggesting that we implant a small amount of nans—only for the purpose of diagnosing her,” Thel argued.

“Governor, maybe we should consider it,” Lieutenant Patrick said.

“It’s against our beliefs. It will turn her into...one of them,” Governor Wong replied.

“Governor,” the doctor interjected, “if I had the equipment here I would do a brain scan to find out if a neurological injury is the reason why this is happening. If this post-human’s technology can do that from the inside, then what’s the difference?”

Governor Wong remained silent, his lips pressed hard against one another as he weighed the decision. His eyes went from the doctor to Thel, whose eyes were pleading. This woman had risked her life, lost her friend, and was standing next to the badly broken body of her lover, and she had done it all to help them. And now, once again, she was offering her help.

“Okay. Do whatever you think is best,” he said, waving his hand as though he were waving away the entire situation. He turned to exit the room.

Lieutenant Patrick shared a look with Thel as the governor left. “So now what?” Lieutenant Patrick asked.

“Now we draw a sample of my blood,” Thel replied.