I Am Titanium (Pax Black Book 1)

by John Patrick Kennedy

  “Why?”

  She raised one hand. Silence. “The ice has melted to appalling levels. Worse than I could have expected. If I had any thought of mercy for your species, the evidence here is the last argument against it.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  “Humanity.” She sneered, still not turning around. A puddle of water was gathering around her feet; she was melting footprints into the ice. She went back to gesturing. “The tragedy of your species is your illusion that you’re somehow independent of each other.”

  “Sorry,” he said. And he was. What he’d said sounded like a comment from one of those anti-science trolls that frequented his forums just to stir things up. Fuck. It’s not my fault. But now that you brought it up… I’m going to make it worse just to spite you.

  Pax might not be as bad as those troglodytes… but he still knew better.

  Pax stood up, glad his naked skin didn’t stick to the ice.

  Naked. Again. He looked down. His body was titanium once more. He looked over at Lana’s own naked, fiery flesh. He thought briefly about covering up but said fuck it. He was pretty sure Lana would sneer at his embarrassment if he did and wouldn’t notice if he didn’t.

  “What happened?” he said. “All that I know is that Scarlett… blew up her school. Killed a bunch of people.”

  Lana continued to work on whatever was in front of her. Little flashes of light spurted out of her fingers. He walked closer.

  “If you know that much, you know more than I,” said Lana. “She trapped me in a mesh of negative energy earlier today; by the time I had freed myself, the building was destroyed.”

  “Negative energy?” Pax frowned. “You mean the black tentacles?”

  “Yes,” said Lana. “I think they have overwhelmed your friend. I am not sure she is still completely sane.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Still inside here,” said Lana, tapping the flaming skin of her chest. “She is so wrapped up in the horror of what she’s seen that she cannot face reality. So I took over her body and brought it here, to keep the fires from spreading.”

  Pax was relieved. Ashamed of being relieved. He forced himself not to ask when Scarlett would be let out, in case Lana picked up something from his tone of voice.

  Even though Lana was obviously on fire, she didn’t feel warm. He wanted to take his hand and run it across her skin to see what temperature she actually was. He didn’t.

  A Waterman-Butterfly projection of the Earth’s surface spread out on the ice table in front of her, with Australia on one wing and New Zealand on the other. The land masses were made out of white ice; the oceans, major lakes, and at least twenty major rivers were crafted out of clear.

  Lana held a finger near the fractured area at the top of the map. Where the split areas met—where they would have met if the map had been folded into a globe—would be the North Pole. A spark leaped from her burning fingertip and landed on an undifferentiated mass of polar ice. “This is the dome. We are here.” The spark burrowed into the ice, raised up a miniscule bubble, and froze. “Not to scale.”

  Pax grinned. The dome would have to be miles across.

  “Now, be silent.” Lana pinched the top of the bubble, and a thin line of ice rose between her fingers into a spike. She bent her head. Her hair had been tied back in a braid of flame, so there was nothing to block him from seeing her grimace, as if eating something bitter.

  “Greetings from Earth. This is my first report.”

  “After being forced to relocate to the northern polar ice, I have set up an array of devices to collect satellite signals, using, as might be expected, methods that don’t depend on line of sight. I have hacked into the global network and searched for signs of secondary or tertiary intelligence, whether mechanical, biological, technological, spiritual, or other. The processes for establishing non-primary life forms are well established, and I have no doubts that no existent or incipient intelligences have eluded my search. No windups, Gaia-level planetary intelligences, AIs, gods, kami, or other types of secondary or tertiary intelligences have been noted as present.”

  She sounded like she was reading a textbook, or giving a formal judgment at a trial. She kept staring down at the map made of ice. One hand gripped the edge of the table, melting fingerprints into the ice. The other spread out, hovering over the surface.

  He reached across and grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing, Lana?”

  To his surprise, she didn’t pull away, although he could see her nostrils flare and her jaw clench. “The question of whether to isolate the Earth—and therefore cut off humanity from the astral plane—does not solely rest on the shoulders of humanity. If there are other life forms here that may evolve to one day join us on the astral plane, we must take that into account, too. Fortunately, the Earth already sustains a wide variety of good replacement-candidate species, from insects to primates and several types of sea mammals. Personally, I am partial to honeybees.”

  He tugged on her wrist, and she finally pulled it away from him. He grabbed it again. “Replacement species? So you don’t just want to cut humanity off, you want to make us all disappear?”

  She shook her head and turned back to the map. When she spoke again, it was not to him. “Humanity has been observed to be destroying its own habitat as well as those of other species, even when humanity is not competing for the resources of that habitat. It is projected that Earth will be unsuitable for all other species eligible for replacement in less than two thousand of its solar cycles; a major ecological collapse is projected in less than five hundred. The binary competitive-collective nature of the human species is so excessively weighted toward competitiveness and so-called individualism that it will be impossible for them to be able to sustain their current existence as a species or prevent themselves from collectively destroying the biosphere, as it now exists.”

  “The destructiveness of the primary intelligent species, combined with its lack of production of secondary or tertiary intelligences, clearly indicates that leaving humanity in its dominant role is a poor risk. Removing humanity, on the other hand, provides rich opportunities to observe, or foster, a new primary intelligent species with a better balance of competition-collaboration and a better chance of producing secondary or tertiary intelligences.”

  Little flickers of fire curled over his hand from her wrist as he squeezed harder. He was listening to the death sentence of humanity. How could he even argue with it? None of what she was saying was wrong. “Lana—”

  The flames stung his hand. A warning.

  “In addition, I have discovered the existence of what can best be described as a symbiotic or parasitical negative energy species. This species manifests itself as black tentacles, not visible in the spectrum of human vision. It is extremely destructive and seems to feed directly on the negative energy produced by the humans. It also, it seems, encourages that negative energy to spread.”

  Another species, thought Pax. That makes sense.

  “It is my belief that this species can only exist by feeding off human energy, and it sees astral energy as a threat to itself and its host species. It has attempted to destroy me twice now and it is only due to the energy provided by Earth’s sun that I was able to force back the parasite. I believe that, once humanity has died, the species will die with it, but that if humanity gains access to the astral plane, the parasite will be able to follow and may further attack our existence.”

  “Therefore, I highly recommend isolating the humans. Humanity has become self-destructive and will most likely destroy itself, as well as most terrestrial life, within the blink of a geological eye. I hope another species will be able to fill the void once humanity is gone. I feel that, while other terrestrial species are certainly competitive, they will be far more successful than humanity.”

  Lana loo
ked at him. Even though her eyes were orbs made of flame, he could read pity in the way her eyebrows pinched together, and the muscles along her clenched jaw softened. So she felt bad about recommending the destruction of humanity. Great. That was just great.

  “The only ray of light in this situation is that Terkun’shuks’pai has isolated one of the few spirits to have partially overcome the cruel experiments laid upon him, the male adolescent. I have witnessed his reactions, and, while they are mixed, they are sufficiently balanced that I believe his spirit should return with us to the astral plane for consideration for citizenship. His is such an unusual case that I doubt it could ever be replicated.”

  “The other adolescent, I am afraid, is completely corrupted by negative energy, and should be destroyed as soon as possible. I have personally contained her spirit. Her intelligence, while strongly skewed toward the competitive and selfish, is innate and instinctual, and I have no doubt she will effect her escape in a matter of a few planetary revolutions or less.”

  “This concludes my report. Immediate response requested on my request for the destruction of the female adolescent.”

  Lana waved her hand. The spike melted onto the surface of the ice like a tear for a moment. The tear slumped, and the water sank into a hole in the ice.

  Julie closed the manila folder softly. It wasn’t very thick, just a collection of a dozen or so news clippings. The overhead lights cast the shadow of her head on the newsprint and across the blankets over her chest. She fumbled around the clean sheets until she found the call remote and pressed the button that lowered the head of the hospital bed with a slow, disapproving hum. Now is not the time to relax.

  Julie put her hand over her eyes, but her fingers barely seemed wide enough to block the light. Her wedding band hung loosely on her ring finger, and she idly pulled it off and slid it onto her index finger instead. It caught on the knuckle, but she pushed it past. She’d long since left the engagement ring, with its heavy stone, back in the safe in her apartment.

  Dr. Villers sat beside the bed with his hands folded almost in a prayer position between his widespread knees, fingers pointed toward the floor. The muscles along the sides of his jaw seemed to throb. He’d heard her close the folder but he hadn’t looked up.

  That girl.

  She hadn’t been officially identified, but Julie recognized her, even though her skin seemed to be made of burning charcoal. She’d stared at the back of the girl’s head and listened often enough from the hallway to the two of them talking in Pax’s room.

  The girl’s arms were spread wide in the picture. Her shoulders lifted in a question. Who, me? Another picture showed the figure slumping in midair, the posture of one of those teenage girls whose constant self-pity masked the damage they did to the world around them. It wasn’t rational. But she was sure.

  And the picture of Pax on top of the other roof? It took only a glance before her gut told her. Any mother would have known.

  “It’s her,” Julie said.

  “And Pax?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course that’s Pax.”

  “He seems to have been involved in an incident just before then—”

  Julie slapped the folder irritably against the bedrail. “I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t care what happened. It’s the girl’s fault. Doubtless she’s the one who led him into this.”

  “She’s listed as missing,” said Dr. Villers as he slipped the folder out of her hand. “They think she’s dead. But there she is, flying in the middle of a cloud of smoke. And Pax. They say he jumped on top of that building, and it’s ten stories. And those test results—”

  “It’s impossible, all of it.”

  Dr. Villers stretched upright as if to work some of the kinks out of his back and tapped the folder against his knee. “Look, Julie. I have some friends who are looking into this.”

  “Friends. What kind of friends?”

  “Military friends. Defense research. DARPA.”

  Her hand clutched the blankets. If she’d had anything heavier than a plastic mug in reach, she would have hurled it at him. Her heart monitor beeped, and she took a couple of deep breaths with her head twisted toward the far wall. “What did you give them?”

  “Nothing. Yet. They came to me.”

  “If you give them a single data point, I’ll have your ass off the program and out on the street.”

  He shook his head. “Julie. They had the data already.”

  “How? Unless you—or someone else from this hospital—gave the information to them?”

  “They’re already in the computer system. We’re legally required to provide them a back door into all our databases. You know that.”

  Oh, God. Her head swam. She hadn’t known. All the confidential case files… notes… all the research…

  For years she’d been raging against the knowledge that she hadn’t made enough progress on researching Pax’s condition. Now she was horrified by how much she’d accomplished.

  Deleting all her files would just alert them that she knew.

  At least she’d been so busy handling the routine paperwork and less acute cases—compared to Pax, they were all less acute—that she hadn’t had time to write up her latest suspicions.

  She had no idea how to cure her son’s disease. But she had a suspicion of how to trigger it. How to trigger any autoimmune attack. The results would be expressed differently in each victim, due to genetic differences in cellular response. And, if she was correct, she could also accelerate the progress and severity of the attack.

  The government didn’t have her suspicions. But it had all the data leading up to that point. It’d take a genius to come to the same realization as she had—but she’d heard the government had a few of those. Including, apparently, Dr. Villers.

  “So they have all the data already. What do they want?”

  “They want to talk to you. About that girl. About Pax.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as you’re ready. They’re in the ward’s waiting room.”

  Better to get it over with; better to get all the data before she decided how to respond. “Send them in.”

  Dr. Villers stood, holding the manila folder along his side. Julie couldn’t keep her eyes off it.

  “I’ll be back later. Tomorrow.”

  Julie pushed the swing-table out of the way and straightened out her blankets, running her fingers through her hair and trying to keep her wedding band from falling off.

  As Dr. Villers passed the trashcan, he dropped the folder inside with a swish.

  Scarlett stared down at the near-solid smoke trapped inside the net of negative energy. It reminded her of the time when she’d been to one of Jamie McIntyre’s parties. A cute senior Scarlett was making out with had led her up to a room with his hands over her eyes. She’d opened them to darkness and what she could only remember now as three sets of glowing red eyes. She remembered being held down and a hand forced over her mouth. Struggling. Then bright lights, a snide laugh, and a girl saying, “Don’t let me disturb you, boys.” But once the lights were on, they’d let her go, let her run away.

  The thing in the smoke looked like her. Opened its dark mouth and screamed and kicked and tossed its head and jabbed with its elbows and pleaded like her. Suffered like her.

  A moment ago, it had been her.

  So what the fuck happened?

  The black, smoky form shuddered and relaxed. Then it started struggling and screaming again. She couldn’t be sure. But she thought it was acting out that memory. Over and over again. A copy of a moment of hell. The only bright spots were the burning tears that smeared and dripped out of her eyes and down her nose, splattering on the blank white floor of the pacha before disappearing in bursts of steam.

  Something—someone had made a copy
good enough to fool Lana. And tossed her, invisibly, out of the prison inside her mind.

  Who? Why?

  She’d watched Pax trying to attack her. Lana dodging him. Pax breaking down. Weeping over everyone she’d killed. It was over. No doubt in her mind at all. Everything they’d had was gone.

  I’m alone.

  I’m some kind of impossible, dangerous being, with no fucking idea what to do next.

  And alone.

  She knew all that Lana had done. Scarlett had watched Lana fly up to the Arctic and burrow down into the ice. Pax had been lying on his back in the ice, staring upward. Lana had pulled off his burnt clothes—the ones Scarlett had given him—and thrown them out onto the ice. They were warm enough that they had stuck to the top layer of powder, turning into flapping gray snowdrifts.

  Lana had fucked him, long and hard until her flames died down. She’d built the dome around him and flown away, sealing it behind her. Scarlett had let her, hadn’t been able to stop her.

  Instead, Scarlett floated in the air, a being without a body, without any corporeal form. All she could do was watch Pax, naked and perfect, lying on the ice. He wasn’t breathing. His skin was metallic and white. A god. A statue. Hairless, no finger – or toenails, unwrinkled, without creases under his ears or under his chin. Elbows, knees, fingertips, balls as smooth as glass.

  Pax had attacked her. The only person who’d stuck with him, the only one who had a clue what he was going through.

  Negative energy surged up her throat. Not a single tentacle of the stuff in view. Why should it be? Pax was perfect, the rest of humanity was hundreds of miles away, and the negative energy had scraped out the astral energy inside her. Scarlett had been hollowed out like a doll. She might as well not exist.

  But she did, and she wanted. What she wanted, she wasn’t sure. All the things she’d fought for, hoped for, dreamed about in her short life were now either impossible or ridiculous.