Artifex

by Gentry Race

  The Aftermath

  An unlocking sound clinked out to the cell room. The kind of sound nanites would make if an error had occurred in the voxelizing process, unlocking the cell door. Arthur barely noticed, as four men carried him down the corridor, exhausted. He clasped his hands, fidgeting with the cuffs manacling them together.

  The men tossed Spring into a cell and pushed Arthur backward into his. His back smashed into the wall, knocking the air out of him, and he hit his head. He grimaced from the pain. They stripped him of his satchel, taking what was left of the newly acquired stone, save for the small piece in his hand.

  “Sister, Eiar?” Autumn asked from across the way.

  “It is I, Autumn,” Spring said.

  “We are blessed to see your face,” she said.

  “Looks like your prince has gotten the last key captured,” Summer said, rolling her eyes in disappointment, but exuding a sense of fear that Arthur had never seen in her feisty demeanor before.

  “We are… free?” Winter asked in a gloomy voice, rubbing her legs, the scales flaking off. “The stone has been released. Our curse has been lifted.”

  Elizabeth was still across the way, fatigued from her arduous cell conditions, her hair unkempt like her thoughts. Arthur caught her eyes. They were sunken in, weak with stress.

  “Liz, are you all right?”

  “Do I look like I’m all right?” she snapped. “I see you’re adding to your collection of mermaidens.”

  Arthur could see she was more than just fatigued; she was angry about this whole situation. That’s how he knew she loved him.

  He wanted to tell her he felt the same, but refrained. What would Autumn think of my affection toward Liz?

  “I have obtained the solution, milady,” Arthur said instead, looking at Liz, then at Autumn, then down at his closed fists.

  He smiled and opened his palms to reveal a small piece of black ore. The alloy gave no hint of highlight or reflection. Like gravity ripping holes in space, it absorbed all light.

  “What is that?” Elizabeth asked.

  The mermaidens all smiled at each other. Spring looked at Elizabeth.

  “It’s the Azoth,” she informed her.

  “The antithesis of my nanites,” Arthur clarified. “The whole island is made of it—that’s why the ship never self-repaired.”

  He remained silent as he motioned the black alloy onto the restraints. The cuffs broke. He pressed the ore against the bars in front of him, and watched them dissolve before his eyes.

  “It’s both our destroyer and our savior,” he finally said.

  “And what of the conscious driving robot?” asked an executive who was being broadcasted to a monitor from across the gulf of Mexico. She wore the same black and red tunic as a Neopract over sleek business attire.

  “Seems to work,” Malick said, his demeanor less than thrilled to be talking to the board, as they had always favored Arthur’s genius. “Other than killing one of my men.”

  “Disregard your feelings here, General,” the executive said. “Once Annulus Station is complete and its particle accelerator is at full capacity, we will start the transfer of consciousness. The fragile human body is no longer needed to reach full potentiallity.”

  Malick cringed. The progressive Neologists behind Enconn’s board viewed the soul as an everlasting entity. While Malick disagreed with them, he refrained from spouting old Neology scripture: ‘The soul shall be stateless.’

  “A new dawn of man is upon us,” the executive said. “A world we can control. Nature at our will. A technological singularity of the soul and matter.”

  “And what of the mermaids?” Malick asked. “I believe he has tapped his own subconscious to derive them. This might show that conscious uploading needs to be retested. We can’t have crazy manifestations like this happening on Annulus.”

  “Ridiculous, General,” the executive said. “Execute who ever he dressed up as fish immediately.”

  “There is one more thing,” Malick interjected, secretly having been waiting for the right moment to reveal his discovery. “An antithesis.”

  General Malick held in his hand the black ore.

  The executive smirked at the small object, her perfect white teeth as sharp as the creases in her blazer. “Some kind of charcoal?” she asked.

  “Arthur claims it to be the element strangling the nanites from voxelizing the white matter,” Malick said.

  “Interesting,” the executive said. The general could see the slimy outcomes she was working out within her thick skull. “Bring it to us.”

  “Right away, ma’am,” he agreed, ending the transmission.

  Malick sat in his voxelized bunker, holding a leather satchel in his hand. He felt for the fist-sized chunk of alloy within, pushing it out with caution. Then he pulled a handgun from the holster at his hip and set it on the desk next to Arthur’s seized vambrace. Inscribed on the side of the weapon were the words ‘Enconn Print Co’. He touched the alloy to the tip of the barrel, and watched it disintegrate before his eyes.

  “By Allmother,” he said, astonishment and fear commingling in his tone.

  Malick stood up and placed the alloy in the cowhide satchel, then locked both in the safe.

  As he left, two blurred faces appeared in the window, casting their shadows into the room. Just below the window, the wall disintegrated where Arthur pushed a piece of the alloy against it. Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter waited as Elizabeth and Arthur stepped into the bunker.

  “What are we doing here?” Liz whispered.

  “We need to get the rest.”

  “The rest of what?” she asked.

  A soldier stopped just outside Malick’s bunker, hearing the clamor within. Arthur grabbed the sheet off the bed and hung it over the hole he’d made in the wall. Elizabeth ducked behind the cabinet, while Arthur hid behind the bed.

  The guard entered the room and inspected the room. A breeze blew in through the hole, ruffling the sheet, and the motion drew the his attention.

  Elizabeth felt his presence growing closer. She reached for something, anything, and grabbed a small canister. Her entire body flooded with adrenaline. Her eyes widened as she struck the man at the base of his skull.

  His eyes rolled back, and he fell to the ground.

  Arthur looked at Elizabeth. “Nice one.”

  “Get it and let’s go,” she said. She paused for a second. “And try to keep your dick in your pants.”

  Arthur shook his head and crept to the safe. He touched the alloy to the door, dissolving it. Then he snatched the ore and his mechanical vambrace. Elizabeth poked her head out to make sure the coast was clear, and together, they fled the slashed tent.

  The jungle grew thicker the further they traversed. An alarm sounded just down the way, signaling their escape.

  Arthur looked back and saw men filing out, weapons drawn.

  “Girls, run!”

  12

  The Dead Ship

  Soldiers surrounded the cell quarters, weapons drawn as the alarm blared. Malick’s forceful presence pushed through them and opened the door. As he ran down the corridor, he saw the sharp metal of the dissolved cell door.

  “Form a perimeter and find them!” he yelled.

  Malick raced to his quarters, the alarm still blaring in his ears. He punched through the tent door, ripping the voxel material open to feel the cold jungle air wafting in from a hole in one wall. He rushed to his safe, discovering its door dissolved.

  He picked it up and threw it in frustration, then ran to the hole, trying to trace their path. Soldiers came up behind him.

  “General! They took a canister of white matter!” shouted one.

  “They are in the jungle!” Shouted another soldier.

  Malick raced into the shadows of the dense jungle, studying the natural landscape of long jungle vines, trees and mangroves, looking for the slightest impression a human would make.

  Ahead, he could see a trail of scales leading into the
dense brush.

  Malick twisted a smile and began sprinting as fast as he could, the thick foliage catching on his uniform.

  “General!” Captain Ellis yelled, rushing not far behind him.

  He typed into his armband and printed a machete. The handle voxelized in his palm, and he tossed it ahead to Malick.

  Malick snatched the handle, and the tip of the machete voxelized to completion, the sharp blade his only confidant in the deep, wet, darkness of the jungle as he searched for the scientist and his mermaid creations.

  Arthur broke from the jungle with Elizabeth, Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter just behind him, their faces flushed and scraped by the foliage. Summer’s water pit lay just before them. Elizabeth balked at the sulfuric smell looking at the death prone water pit. To his left was the voxelizing machine from before. The one that had taken Charny’s life.

  “What is that?” Autumn asked.

  “It’s left over from the accident, but we need white—” Arthur said, but was interrupted by Liz.

  “You mean this?” Liz said, showing him the canister.

  “Liz, you’re brilliant!” he said.

  Bullets could be heard whizzing from deep within the jungle.

  Arthur grabbed Elizabeth, ducking from the gunfire. He looked down at her and saw that she was still holding the small canister stamped with the words ‘White Matter’.

  Arthur grabbed the canister, pulled back his sleeve, and typed furiously into his vambrace device. The men grew closer while he worked frantically.

  “Shit!” Arthur said.

  “What?” Liz asked, looking at the jungle, expecting to see Malick and his men any moment.

  “Your old professor’s shitty ship designs are all I have downloaded on here,” Arthur said. They projected in hologram form as he swiped through. “They’re all we have.”

  He turned to the interface machine, hooked on the canister device, started the voxelizing procedure and it rumbled to life. A small, ratty, six-seater pod voxelized rapidly, the door unlatching as it took form.

  Arthur smiled. “In you go. All of you.”

  “No,” Summer said, raising her arms to block her sisters behind her.

  Arthur was puzzled by her refusal. This is the only way for everyone to be safe.

  “Where are you taking us?” she wanted to know. “This is our home.”

  “Not anymore, sister,” Autumn pleaded. “The curse is lifted.”

  Arthur watched Summer work out her fear. For the longest time, as a melusine, she’d melded that fear into anger, and now that anger was gone. Like a vented tea kettle, she was exhausted. It was as if she’d lost her purpose.

  Arthur stepped up to her and said, “Summer, if you come with us, I promise to look after you. All of you. You must trust me. We have to go.”

  She looked to Spring and Winter. Their faces were blunted with both worry and acceptance. Summer turned to Arthur and nodded in agreement.

  They all hopped into the small vessel, and the door closed.

  “Do you know how to fly one of these?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No, but it should have autopilot,” Arthur said. “We just need coordinates.”

  He unfolded his vambrace and straightened it out, inserting it into the ship’s console. The ship shook with a sputtering sound as loud metal clanked rhythmically.

  “Is that supposed to happen?” Liz asked.

  “No, those are gunshots,” Arthur said

  He tugged on the controls, lifting the craft off the ground. More gunfire shook them, and pieces of the jerry-built ship fell off. The white matter reserves gauge depleted drastically as the ship repaired itself.

  “Arthur, go!” Liz begged.

  The ship pulled away, the force whipping all of their heads back. They could see Malick and his men on the ground far below them, breaking from the jungle and emerging into the clearing.

  “Thank goodness,” Elizabeth said in a hopeful breath.

  The ship rattled violently. In front of the window, clouds passed silently in white tufts. The sky dimmed to deep blue and then black.

  “Where are we going?” Autumn asked.

  Arthur checked the coordinates that had been locked in; longitude and latitude were replaced with azimuth and right ascension. He sat back, remembering the moment he’d had with Malick when he first arrived, when he programmed them into his vambrace.

  “Annulus.”

  Footnotes

  3. Earth

  1 The Second Key of Basil Valentine

  In the houses of the great are found various kinds of drink, of which scarcely two are exactly like each other in odour, colour, or taste. For they are prepared in a great variety of different ways. Nevertheless they are all drunk, and each is designed for its own special use. When the Sun gives out his rays, and sheds them abroad upon the clouds, it is commonly said that he is attracting water, and if he do it frequently, and thereby cause rain, it is called a fruitful year.

  If it be intended to build a palace, the services of many different craftsmen must be employed, and a great variety of materials is required. Otherwise the palace would not be worthy the name. It is useless to use wood where stone is necessary.

  The daily ebb and flow of the sea, which are caused by the sympathetic influence of heavenly bodies, impart great wealth and blessing to the earth. For whenever the water comes rolling back, it brings a blessing with it.

  A bride, when she is to be brought forth to be married, is gloriously adorned in a great variety of precious garments, which, by enhancing her beauty, render her pleasant in the eyes of the bridegroom. But the rites of the bridal night she performs without any clothing but that which she was arrayed withal at the moment of her birth.

  In the same way our bridal pair, Apollo and Diana, are arrayed in splendid attire, and their heads and bodies are washed with various kinds of water, some strong, some weak, but not one of them exactly like another, and each designed for its own special purpose. Know that when the moisture of the earth ascends in the form of a vapour, it is condensed in the upper regions, and precipitated to the earth by its own weight. Thus the earth regains the moisture of which it had been deprived, and receives strength to put forth buds and herbs. In the same way you must repeatedly distil the water which you have extracted from the earth, and then again restore it to your earth, as the water in the Strait of Euripus frequently leaves the shore, and then covers it again until it arrives at a certain limit.

  When thus the palace has been constructed by the hands of many craftsmen, and the sea of glass has absolved its course, and filled the palace with good things, it is ready for the King to enter, and take his seat upon the throne. But you should notice that the King and his spouse must be quite naked when they are joined together. They must be stripped of all their glorious apparel, and must lie down together in the same state of nakedness in which they were born, that their seed may not be spoiled by being mixed with any foreign matter.

  Let me tell you, in conclusion, that the bath in which the bridegroom is placed, must consist of two hostile kinds of matter, that purge and rectify each other by means of a continued struggle. For it is not good for the Eagle to build her nest on the summit of the Alps, because her young ones are thus in great danger of being frozen to death by the intense cold that prevails there.

  But if you add to the Eagle the icy Dragon that has long had its habitation upon the rocks, and has crawled forth from the caverns of the earth, and place both over the fire, it will elicit from the icy Dragon a fiery spirit, which, by means of its great heat, will consume the wings of the Eagle, and prepare a perspiring bath of so extraordinary a degree of heat that the snow will melt upon the summit of the mountains, and become a water, with which the invigorating mineral bath may be prepared, and fortune, health, life, and strength restored to the King.

  2 The Sixth Key of Basil Valentine.

  The male without the female is looked upon as only half a body, nor can the female without the male be regarded as m
ore complete For neither can bring forth fruit so long as it remains alone. But if the two be conjugally united, there is a perfect body, and their seed is placed in a condition in which it can yield increase.

  If too much seed be cast into the field, the plants impede each other's growth, and there can be no ripe fruit. But if, on the other hand, too little be sown, weeds spring up and choke it.

  If a merchant would keep a clear conscience, let him give just measure to his neighbour. If his measure and weight be not short, he will receive praise from the poor.

  In too much water you may easily be drowned; too little water, on the other hand, soon evaporates in the heat of the sun.

  If, then, you would attain the longed-for goal, observe just measure in mixing the liquid substance of the Sages, lest that which is too much overpower that which is too little, and the generation be hindered. For too much rain spoils the fruit, and too much drought stunts its growth. Therefore, when Neptune has prepared his bath, measure out carefully the exact quantity of permanent water needed, and let there be neither too little nor too much.

  The twofold fiery male must be fed with a snowy swan, and then they must mutually slay each other and restore each other to life; and the air of the imprisoned fiery male will occupy three of the four quarters of the world, and make up three parts of the imprisoned fiery male, that the death-song of the swans may be distinctly heard; then the swan roasted will become food for the King, and the fiery King will be seized with great love towards the Queen, and will take his fill of delight in embracing her, until they both vanish and coalesce into one body.

  It is commonly said that two can overpower one, especially if they have sufficient room for putting forth their strength. Know also that there must come a twofold wind, and a single wind, and that they must furiously blow from the east and from the south. lf, when they cease to rage, the air has become water, you may be confident that the spiritual will also be transmuted into a bodily form, and that our number shall prevail through the four seasons in the fourth part of the sky (after the seven planets have exercised power), and that its course will be perfected by the test of fire in the lowest chamber of our palace, when the two shall overpower and consume the third.