Farima: An Afrofuturist Sci-Fi Adventure (The Homo Maximus Saga Book 1)

by Brian Lewis

  She keeps her gaze strong. “Let’s not avoid the truth here Justice, this technology is meant for us in New Manden. We cannot save the entire world. But once the science is open-sourced, the world can do with it what they please. Our people funded it, and we should be the principal benefactors of it at first. The more we release about our research, the more likely it is to fall into the hands of our enemies. The same people my grandparents fought against in the Second Revolutionary War.”

  “You misunderstand me.”

  “No. I know what your angle is. There are seven Nodes, but twelve seats on the revolving Worker’s Council. The very Council that coordinates ECIC activity. The Node that gets the most support, based on their value to The Collective, gets to decide who occupies the other five seats. Node One hasn’t coordinated the Council for too long. It’s only been-well-five years.”

  Justice peers up at the opinion poll and sees that it has dropped from fifty-five to fifty-four percent. He shakes his head. “Let’s change subjects. Endonis Technologies, among many things, is a biotechnology worker enterprise. It serves the country by providing very affordable, and sometimes free, genetic augmentations. Medical mostly, but sometimes cosmetic.”

  Natia nods her head. “Members of The Collective ask for everything under the sun. Gene therapy for disease prevention, eye color changes and many things I won’t go into here.”

  The crowd laughs.

  Justice continues, “I know the scope of the enterprise goes beyond simply biotech. How can you rationalize jumping from using genetics to create stronger cells and enhancements to changing the nature of life itself? Are you not attempting to play God? Is your research unethical?”

  The question sends an electrical pulse from her brain in the form of a shiver down Natia’s back. “Unethical? No. That’s not the kind of research I involve myself with. Unethical is what the ‘Old State’ did to our ancestors for generations.”

  There’s a light cheer from the crowd.

  “We conduct tests on near-human android subjects that are not conscious and don’t feel pain. We abide by the law, and we respect our members. My fellow Mandenite brothers and sisters, to preserve our future success, we have to push the envelope. We have to question societal norms, even our own. There’s a multitude of our elders in the Founder generation who have to see that times are changing. Our planet is in peril. We now have Jena’s in Node Six where workers control A.I. that control fisheries. Fish genes exist now to allow them to survive in a warmer ocean.”

  “So if I ever asked you to do something unethical, you would reject it?”

  Natia pauses before responding. A pause that holds a second too long. The Buhari Principle is what she wants to echo but knows it unwise. Too much is at stake and they’ll never understand where she’s coming from. “Yes. I’d reject it.”

  “It took you a second to get that out,” the crowd laughs at Justice’s comment. “Are you sure?”

  “There are two things I’m sure of, my love of science and my love for The Collective. Unethical research violates both and puts us at risk.”

  Justice peers once more at the poll and sees no change. He knows he needs to turn up the heat. “Let me ask you about Khalil Buhari. The founder of Endonis Technologies and the most influential person on the Worker’s Council. He faced corruption allegations that caused a frenzy last year. You faced questioning in front of the New Manden Oversight and Ethics Council.”

  Natia freezes. The one question she hoped wouldn’t come up just did. She smiles awkwardly into the camera.

  “It’s caused Councilman Buhari’s popularity to plummet. This is a man who cut his teeth at the Battle of Charlotte over four decades ago. New Manden wouldn’t exist without him. Being you’ve called him your mentor, how do you reassure the members in attendance and watching across the AugNet that two people accused of corruption are the right people for the job? Should you even have the power to decide whether we live forever?”

  Natia fights everything in her power to stop herself from grabbing Justice by the neck. She has the strength to lift him up into the air with her bare hands as his feet dangles by her knees. She hides an athletic frame underneath the business casual outfit she wears.

  “Correction, they never accused me of any wrongdoing. So your ‘facts’ are inaccurate. Every accusation has not only been proven false, but retractions have been issued for several in fact.”

  “But -”

  “No, listen for a second. There is nothing more important to me or Khalil than the success of the collective worker-owners of the nation. This project revolutionizes the Direct Democracy of New Manden. Imagine a world without sickness. A world where you don’t have to live in fear of losing your loved ones. There are seven Nodes in New Manden and you’re in one that has never led the ECIC. That’s your problem.”

  She lets that sink in for a second.

  “This is not a dream, it’s a reality… if The Collective makes it so.” Natia dares to look at the augmented poll hovering in space. The side that’s against continuing to fund Project Maximus now sits at fifty-one percent. A drop of four percent since the start of Natia’s Dialogue.

  “Not enough.” Natia knows she has to dig deeper to win that last two percent. “You mentioned the Battle of Charlotte earlier Justice and do you know my parents told me stories of those days? I was ten years old when they told me the stories of the socialists and fascists fighting outside my grandparent’s home. My grandfather fought for the Freedom Syndicate. While my grandmother was a powerful supporter of the F.S. and fought with him.”

  Beneath Natia’s eyes, the muscle tingles, trembles, and burns. The memory of that dreadful day of her father’s murder and the kidnapping of her mother by NAS terrorists haunts her.

  “On the last day I saw my mom alive she told me, ‘The battle won’t be won on the battlefield but in the mind. We are only oppressed and suppressed to the degree that we choose to be.’” She lowers her chin. “My parents were on a diplomat mission to ease tensions between us and the New American States. But extremists within the NAS didn’t want that. So here we sit twenty years later, no closer to peace than we were back then.”

  At that moment, Natia sees out of the corner of her eye the thousands in attendance rise to their feet. An ocean of palms reach into the air in celebratory pride and fierce jubilation. In unison they cry out, “We are one! We are one! We are one!”

  A tiny tear creeps from the corner of Natia’s right eye, which faces the crowd. A moment captured on camera that has a direct impact.

  “Well, seems as if you’ve earned the support of members Dr. Greenheart.” Justice’s voice cracks with defeat and he lets out a long, flat sigh at the current results of the poll. “Your project now boasts the support of fifty-two percent. A seven-point swing in your favor. I may not agree with the secrecy, but your spirit and drive are overwhelming. I can no longer fight against that.”

  Natia smiles. He’s right where she wants him. “Thank you for that Justice.”

  “Project Maximus will survive after all.”

  “Indeed it will Justice.”

  Chapter 3

  Project Farima

  Node One—Manay City, 2082—Isle of Manden—The Ark of Endonis

  Councilman Khalil Buhari leans against a window panel in his office, towering above the Ebony Coliseum. He can see the radiant caramel ablaze within its superstructure like a hawk perched atop a steep tree. The Coliseum is a jewel pulsating in an ocean of thousands, and it gifts guidance to those who pursue it. Khalil knows guidance isn’t what they demand, they require protection. Protection only he controls through his incredible influence.

  Protection from what will soon come to destroy them.

  “From the dark, we rose into light. Rise and defy, for New Manden we fight.” Khalil grins as he recites the ‘Buhari Principles’; sparking the flame of battle from within.

  The Great Forum, displaying live in AR, transforms theory into reality. From the apex of the Ark of
Endonis, Khalil captains the central work base of Node One. The eighth tower of the ECIC sits in the center of a circle of the separate buildings. Same as Khalil who situates himself at the center of New Manden.

  The citizens pitching referendums at the Forum know not who observes them from high above. Khalil studies them, searching for future leaders to sculpt. Over the many decades, he’s seen no one who can match Natia, whose growing influence now rivals his own. But in an ocean of thinkers, there can be one Grand Architect. Khalil in his heart wants to think Natia is not ready, but no one else wants to go along with this.

  Khalil founded New Manden among revolutionaries, but as the decades passed he found solace in solitude. Rare paintings worth hundreds of Aje adorn his walls, but none fill the dimming void within him. Khalil’s research in robotics reshaped the nature of war inverting the pyramid of world power. His way of life is marked by its results. Where goes the revolutionary post-revolution? Khalil ponders.

  “Thank you, everybody, for voting.” Justice Samuels stands downstage near the crowd. Khalil looks back at the living image and realizes that Natia is no longer on stage. “The votes are in and Project Maximus will continue to collect funding from the over fifty million workers of the ECIC. Value for value, that’s the Mandenite way. The Collective’s future will be thrilling for sure if this works.”

  Khalil’s oval door to his office sings with a hum before it slides open. The Junoesque silhouette of Acacia Reed glides through the doorway. She pauses at the top step before stepping into his space with grace. As Khalil’s agent of intelligence, she works at his direction, guided by his wisdom. She organizes with the Worker’s Council to monitor activity on the Aje blockchain to pinpoint potential threats to New Manden.

  She stops behind Khalil. Her skin is a creamy blend of coffee and milk and her hair is short and fuzzy.

  “Khalil, the head of security says the tests have confirmed our fears. The attempted hacking of our internal servers last night wasn’t by a man at all. It was an Infiltrator android. Class Three.” Acacia stops to read Khalil’s expression, as best she can from behind. She unbuttons her beige blazer and wraps it around a chair in front of Khalil’s desk, revealing her white tie-neck top.

  “Class Three, eh?” Khalil turns to face Acacia. “That makes the third infiltration attempt in the past month. How close are the workers in Android Operations on developing a quicker way to detect these new model infiltrators?”

  “They told me they’re working as fast as possible. Twenty engineers from the Isle of Maris in Node Two are coming to assist in the investigation.”

  “Not fast enough.” Khalil lifts his arm to his chest and taps a button on the modified Orunmila wrapped around his forearm. The image of the Great Forum vanishes, revealing the militant ambiance of his office in its warlike opulence. “Did you catch Natia at the Great Forum?”

  “No I didn’t, this security breach has everyone busy this afternoon.”

  “Justice Samuels mentioned that my popularity has declined. It’s a splendid thing I have Nat, huh. They love her. The same way they used to love me. Then they turn on you.” He lets out a weak chuckle before shaking his head and placing his hands in his pockets. “I’ve done so much for our young nation, but factions within the Collective think it’s time for me to step aside. The android remains have produced nothing of value at all? Nothing I can use?”

  “No, the artificial brains in these new deep cover androids are resistant to our attempts to hack in.” Acacia steps around the corner of the desk. “Khalil, we have to figure out the source of these incursions.”

  “Yes, I know. Natia should be here any minute. I need something, I need leverage. Project Maximus may get continued funding from The Collective, but I worry. The scope of the project is too broad, too idealistic. She’s so much like how I was.”

  Acacia puts her finger up to her ear and Khalil can tell she’s getting a message. “The Worker’s Council is ready to start the emergency gathering you requested.”

  “Great. Sync them into the office’s private AR system.” Khalil presses a button on his Orunmila. The window panels that line the entire floor darken to block any prying eyes.

  Khalil waves for Acacia to follow him to a back room at the opposite end of the floor. Passing by a giant sofa, the two of them make their way through the main hallway. They turn left at the end of that hallway and come to a door with a palm scanner on the wall. Khalil places his hand inside the device and feels the frosty glass touching his skin. The door hums and rises open, revealing a glowing solarium on the opposite side.

  My eyes and my ears. Khalil thinks as he enters the room. He’d ordered the engineers to build the solarium at the highest point of the Ark. In it, he has access to every camera in the Ark of Endonis. The Ark stands as the tallest in the center of this ring and of the Isle of Manden itself.

  He looks over to Acacia and nods. “I’m ready.”

  Acacia Reed pulls up her own Orunmila and begins tapping its touchscreen. Eleven checkered blue images appear in order around the sunny room. Their augmented forms are unrecognizable at first, but the infusion of color brings clarity to the familiar strangers. The Worker’s Council now stands within the room. To the uninformed, a person might think they were there in person in flesh. They wear their choice of robes with each member dressing in the idiosyncratic patterns of their Node; black and gold threads weave like snakes throughout their garments.

  “Delightful day you to all in attendance. As Elder Councilman, I know it’s imperative that you have the most up-to-date information you need. Each of you should be receiving the latest reports to spread to the workers in your respective Nodes.”

  “How bad was the breach, Khalil?” Councilman Michael Olina speaks first. He is the most senior member of the Council outside of Khalil and a longtime rival. He has a long gray and black beard and a bald head, much like Khalil. Yet like so many in Node Two, Olina covers his face in exotic symmetrical painted patterns. Today he wears waves of lime green with hints of brick red and yellow.

  “Not as bad as you might have heard Councilman Olina. Trust me, we have our best android engineers working on how to break the machine’s synthetic mind now. Workers trained in counter-intelligence are tracking the source of these attempts as we speak.” Khalil stands tall and defiant in front of the Council. Even for a man who only stands five feet and eight inches in height.

  “Khalil, this marks the third attempt at stealing highly classified material this month. Someone sent a Class Three Deep Cover Infiltrator android into the very heart of our Collective! This means our enemies are getting either bolder or more desperate—likely both.” Councilwoman Ashanti Adams’ voice echoes even in virtual form. Her image stands closest to Khalil, emanating from a disk-shaped projector that moves around the floor. She is the youngest and newest on the Council. She wears her hair braided in the traditional blue headdress popular among women in Node Four.

  Councilwoman Adams continues, “The old guard in the Founders generation can’t hold on to power forever. It betrays what built this nation. That no person or group will ever have too much power. The members in my Node are growing frustrated. People have lost faith in your ability to lead.”

  “Yes, I know Councilwoman Adams,” Khalil responds with rushed haste to his voice. “There is no one more frustrated by recent events than I.” He paces back and forth in brief spans as his stomach hardens. Khalil can name at least ten different virtual worlds he’d rather be in right now than here. He folds his arms and stops pacing. “This is an insult. Every few months, these D.C.I. androids are getting better and better and everyone knows what’s happening.”

  “What might that be Khalil?” Councilman Desta Aloomis, a veteran of the Second Revolutionary War and Khalil’s closest friend asks. Node One dominates representation on the Council. Desta keeps the others in line to make it appear like Khalil doesn’t have as much influence over the Council that he does.

  “Our enemies are after the encrypt
ed Homo Maximus files on the Aje blockchain. Hidden on a privacy sidechain. It’s the most obvious goal, not a surprise that this attempt occurred last night. The night before the Great Forum where Project Maximus would be discussed by everyone.” Khalil turns to see Acacia’s eyes observing the motions and movements of the Council members. She watches their reactions to his statements like a lioness trailing its prey.

  “Who are these enemies you speak of?” Councilman Olina asks.

  “I will be transparent and say what everyone’s thinking.” Councilman Aloomis pauses, “is there intelligence to suggest the Knights of the White Rose are behind this?”

  “It’s crossed my mind.” Khalil sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Right now until our engineers hack that android in interrogation we won’t know for sure.”

  “I’m sure they’d outsource a job of this importance, anyway.” Councilwoman Adams shakes her head in disbelief. “No way they’d risk getting caught red-handed trying to hack the Ark of Endonis servers. That would be an open violation of the detente treaty between New Manden and the New American States. No way it’s the KWR, not this direct. We need to look deeper and avoid escalations until we have more information.”

  “No… what we need is Project Farima.” Khalil slams his fist into his hand. The time to unleash the fire that burns inside has arrived.

  A low, agitated murmur emanates from the body of the Council.

  “Khalil, you’re bringing this up at a moment like this?” Councilman Olina raises his voice to a high pitch. His eyes are bulging with disbelief.

  “Councilman Olina, do you still do any work at all on the Worker’s Council? I mean, I see you spend hours of time on your face, but I see little else.” Khalil’s voice drips with sarcasm.

  Olina stands silent. No one comes to his defense.

  “What better time than now? Project Maximus will continue to receive funding. But you have to understand, I am troubled. Natia is not ready for what heads her way if the incursions represent the threat I think it does.” Khalil points his finger at different members. “Councilman Olina you represent Node Two where we have six and a half million citizens alone. Councilwoman Adams you lead our youngest region by far and they hold you in high regard, especially the youth of New Manden. Don’t they deserve the proper protection? LyfeZone will love receiving all the secrets I can spill about this body. Does anyone want that?”