Trans-Human (Post-Human Sequel) (17 page)

“I’m human,” Neirbo replied firmly. “So are all of you.”

“How the hell do you figure that?” Rich demanded.

Old-timer stepped in once again, keeping his palms up as he desperately tried to keep his friends from antagonizing Neirbo. He knew the consequences of doing that all too well. “Look, we’re about to let you go. We’re going to explain what’s going on to you and then what you decide to do with that information is up to you. I hope you’ll help me. I hope we can work together to get out of this mess. But it’s up to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Thel asked.

“You’re still human,” Neirbo replied.

“He needs to shut up,” Rich spat.

“This is not going well,” Neirbo sighed. “The empath would have been invaluable. You should have brought her with you.”

“She wanted to go back to her old body,” Old-timer responded. “You said we were free to choose. That’s what she chose.”

“We granted you the right to try to persuade them because we felt the empath could achieve this and allow us to avoid the standard education. We are running out of time.”

“Just give me two minutes,” Old-timer pleaded. “Just give me two minutes and I can make them understand.”

“Understand what? What’s happening?” Thel asked again.

“The nans have turned against us,” Old-timer explained. “The andr... these... metallic humans came here to save us, not to harm us.”

“To
save
us?” Rich reacted with exasperation. “By destroying our bodies and making machine copies?”

“By transferring you to new bodies,” Neirbo interjected, “and discarding the infected ones.”

“They tried to contact us but the nans blocked their communication,” Old-timer furthered.

“Old-timer, how can you possibly know that they’re telling you the truth?” Thel replied.

Old-timer remained silent for a moment, his eyes locked with Thel’s. He could show them how he knew, but he didn’t want to.

“Show them,” Neirbo urged. “Show them now.”

“They’re must be another way,” Old-timer replied.

“There is. Would you prefer
that?
”

“No!” Old-timer shouted for a third time. “No,” he repeated immediately, this time more softly. “Of course not. Fine. Show them,” he said, turning his back and facing the wall.

A recording began to play in the mind’s eyes of the three prisoners. It was a point of view shot of James in the A.I. mainframe.

4

“James!” Thel exclaimed. “When was this recorded?”

“Alejandra and I saw this live just before we came to get you on the Purist ship,” Old-timer replied.

“Who is talking to James?” Thel asked.

“It is
1
,” Neirbo replied.

“1?”

“There must be a voice for the human race,” Neirbo explained. “Since we are all of equal intelligence and ability, we randomly select a person to be our leader every 1000 days. This person takes on the moniker
1
and spends that time jacked into our collective consciousness. She is the only person who can communicate with all of us at once; she leads us. It is a tremendous burden—but also the highest honor.”

“Why is she talking to James?” Thel asked, still confused.

“Listen,” Neirbo said in his typically toneless voice.

Thel watched the exchange from the point of view of 1. “We wish for you to join with us,” 1 said to James. “We have to fight the nans here before they join with the other organisms of their type that are already established throughout the universe. There can be no safety for the human species in this universe until the last of the nans are finally eliminated.”

James’s expression was terrifying—Thel could read the hopelessness in his eyes. “I appreciate the offer,” James said, “but there’s a problem.”

“What is it?” asked 1.

“I’m not alone,” James said ominously.

“What do you mean?” 1 asked.

“The A.I. still exists,” James said, suddenly meeting her eyes, “and it has become part of me,” he admitted. Thel gasped with fright.

“What?” 1 asked in a whisper. 1’s terror could be felt by those watching. “It’s here? Now?”

“Yes,” the A.I. interjected as he suddenly appeared with his all too familiar sadistic grin exposing his razor teeth.

“Then I’m sorry,” 1 replied with regret, “You’ve been corrupted too. There’s no hope for you.” She paused for a moment, eyes locked with James. Thel was able to look right into his eyes and see the terror—she had never seen him like that—the blackness of all hope lost. She knew he was gone.

“No!” she yelled out as she twisted her body in agony. “No!” she yelled out again as she began to sob. “No,” she said one last time before the sobs consumed her.

Old-timer turned to Neirbo. “Let them go,” he whispered.

Neirbo nodded in silent agreement and with a simple thought, the three prisoners were freed. Rich rushed to embrace Djanet, who touched his damaged face lightly and carefully; she was unable to find words regarding the ghastly appearance of the metal structure underneath where his cheekbone should have been. They both quickly turned to Thel and comforted her as she sobbed. Djanet held Thel’s head on her shoulder, taking the guttural heaves of utter agony against her chest, while Rich held her hand tightly.

Old-timer stood and watched the misery.
This is the future?
he thought to himself. The optimism that he had worked his entire life to cultivate about the destiny of humanity was wrong? How could this be? How could he have been so wrong?

“You’d better tell them the rest,” Neirbo said, breaking the silence.

“The rest?” Rich reacted. “How much worse does this get?”

“A lot worse, old buddy. The nans were waiting to attack us. They were in our bodies and in everything that James had recreated—absolutely everything. Alejandra and I tried to warn as many of the survivors as we could but...”

“But what?” Rich asked, the dread of realizing that his family still had the nans within them gripping his insides and drying out his mouth.

“They didn’t have much warning. I... I saw Daniella die. They didn’t deactivate quickly enough...” Old-timer couldn’t say another word.

Djanet, Rich, and even Thel were silenced by Old-timer’s revelation. If Old-timer hadn’t been able to save his own wife, then what were the chances that any of the other survivors had made it? They’d been ripped apart by the nans—
again
.

“The nanobots from this solar system are currently attacking our collective,” Neirbo stated, adding to the implacable ghoulishness of the circumstances. “Every moment, they are killing millions of our numbers,” he said making sure to meet the eyes of everyone in the room, “and they are headed this way. Soon it will be us they are consuming.”

“Then why don’t you retreat?” Old-timer demanded. “Why don’t you get all of us the hell out of here before it’s too late?”

“If we do that, our billions of lives—your billions of lives as well—will have been sacrificed for nothing,” Neirbo snapped back.

“But what alternative do you have?” Djanet asked.

Neirbo opened his mouth to respond before suddenly jolting back as though coming to attention for a superior—this was indeed the case.

“We
can
fight back,” said 1 as she stepped into the room in her physical form, “and we can destroy them all.”

5

1’s beauty was astonishing. She was the kind of woman that made it so that it didn’t matter how a man might love his wife, he would still find himself drifting off into pleasant daydreams around her. Her hair was blonde and each strand shone brightly, even catching low light so that it would draw eyes. Her figure was strong but feminine—her moves were graceful and athletic like a dancer. Her eyes were... well, Old-timer couldn’t help thinking to himself that they were more stunning than Alejandra’s.

“It’s a great honor to meet you in person,” Neirbo breathlessly whispered, lowering his gaze respectfully. It wasn’t required that one bow in respect of 1, but there was something about being in the presence of a figure with that much power that made it impossible not to be humbled.

“You’ve done very well, Neirbo,” 1 replied graciously. “I think they are ready to listen now. I’ll take it from here. You may leave.”

“I thank you,” Neirbo replied, bowing again unconsciously before leaving the room.

“Thank God somebody finally kicked the killjoy out,” Rich said as he watched the door to the room close behind Neirbo.

“His methods were strict but, unfortunately, necessary given our current, grave situation,” 1 replied. “Still, I felt his presence was no longer an asset. I am sorry for everything that you and your friends have had to endure,” she said, turning as she spoke so that she met the eyes of everyone in the room, one by one. “We came here to save you, but in the end, I fear we will have lost far more of our number than we will have saved of yours.”

“You said there was a way that we could fight them,” said Djanet, cutting to the chase. “How?”

1 smiled a strained smile with her mouth, but there was something in her eyes that told Djanet that what she was about to say would not be comforting. “There is a way—but whether we follow that path will be up to you.”

“Up to us? Why can’t anyone here give a straight answer?” Rich reacted with exasperation.

“I thought you were the person in charge, 1,” Old-timer interjected, “so why would any decisions be up to us?”

“We have a rule that prevents even me from making a decision of this gravity about a solar system to which we are alien,” replied 1. “This is
your
home.
You
must be the ones to decide its fate.”

“Lady, can you please, please, pretty please with sugar on top, cut the bull and just tell us what the hell you’re talking about?” Rich asked, the frustration causing him to plead while balling his hands into fists. He promised himself that he wouldn’t attack this woman if she finally gave a straight answer. She had one chance left.

“What decision are you talking about?” Old-timer asked, outwardly calm but his voice stern as he too was rapidly running out of patience.

1 saw their impatience transforming into aggression before her eyes and was pleased—
they were ready to make the choice.
“We have the opportunity to kill every nanobot in this solar system and to make sure that they cannot use this solar system’s rich resources to reproduce further.”

“What’s the catch?” asked Djanet.

“It requires the destruction of your sun,” 1 answered with a frank and deadly seriousness, “and therefore the destruction of this system.”

6

“Okay. Talk,” James responded with resignation. Katherine was right—he really wasn’t going anywhere.

“Thank you, my son,” the A.I. replied with a warm smile.

My son
, James repeated in his head. The words had once been so comforting. The A.I. used to be very much like a father to James—but a father that had since forsaken him.

“Why don’t you start by telling me where I am?”

“Certainly,” the A.I. replied. “You’re in the mirror image of the mainframe.”

The answer startled James as something in his memory suddenly jarred loose—a theory he had worked on years earlier but had mostly forgotten in the meantime. “Mirror image? You mean... the reverse?”

Jim and the A.I. smiled when they saw that James remembered. “I knew he’d remember,” Jim said.

“So did I,” the A.I. concurred. “Yes, James. You are in the reverse side of the mainframe.”

James’s eyes widened as he began to realize the enormity of the A.I.’s revelation. “I wrote about the concept of
reversible computing
a few years ago. It was a theoretical method for building astronomically sized computers but minimizing the heat they would generate. It never gained any traction in the Governing Council.”

“That’s right, James,” the A.I. replied. “It gained traction with me, however,” the A.I. said, tapping his temple. “I took the notion and started working on it and was able to create a fully functioning mirror image of the mainframe.”

“This is the part I never understood,” Katherine interjected. “Why? I’ve been here for a year and a half but I still don’t understand why you would build a mirror image of the mainframe.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Jim asked her. “I could’ve explained it.”

“I figured I wouldn’t understand,” Katherine admitted, adding, “then I forgot about it.”

“Entropy,” James replied. “It circumvents the law of thermodynamics.”

“Okay.
That’s
why I didn’t ask,” Katherine replied, rolling her eyes and exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“No, honey, it’s simple actually,” Jim said patiently as he gently began his explanation for her. James remembered when he used to patiently try to explain things to Katherine; he didn’t miss it. “Computers have always been irreversible, which just means that you can’t run them backward. Once a computer moves from one step to the next, it erases the old data because saving it would take up valuable memory.”