The Time Tribulations

by Travis Borne

  To their left was a vibrant aquarium, brimming with schools of fish fluttering by like leaves in the wind. Wave after wave, the colors danced along: candy reds, lemon yellows, eggplant purples, and blues that could put the year 2024’s blue sky to shame. Next, dolphins. They gave chase like happy children; hundreds—more! The entire left half was an animated aquatic wonderland. Networks of coral thrived around a decaying front clip: a massive ocean liner, and in the distance, immense, sinuating shadows weaved about like haunts. White light filtering down was a laser show. Before even a minute had eroded from time’s nub, the dolphins spotted the humans and slid along the glass with wide, happy eyes. As if saying hello, they turned upright, rubbing white bellies and waving with a single fin. They were ecstatic. With cackling mouths and bobbing heads, the smarties of the sea taunted the new arrivals. White helmets capped their heads like a kippah, and earmuffs between eyes and ears, emitted turquoise lights.

  To the right were—jaws hit the floor and teeth became carpet scrapers—people! Thousands upon thousands of sleeping—HUMANS! In clear glass casings, with tubes, wires, some were jerking and jolting spasmodically. Lights bathed the jerkers in red while others received midnight-blue, dim, calm with no spasms. The cavity seemed to go on forever, deep and into the cavern in which the humans found themselves. Beyond was a glass wall: the intertwining network of tubes; the wormy noodles were easily perceived through it, just like those departing the inprocessing room below.

  Kim took special notice of the tubes. She pictured Jake, big, black, and fully nude, slipping and sliding through the network only to arrive—plugged in. Futile, but she looked anyway, as if she could spot him, or Kelly her assistant who’d went next, smiling with all teeth as if she’d been punched by a rainbow, or any of the ten others; but there were simply too many—then she looked up. Hundreds of feet above the library of casings was brightness. Greens and yellows, even blue like a sunny cloudless day—another tier, but exactly what resided there was indiscernible. Kim sped up. She wanted answers and accompanied Boron. Zzz-it-ernt—his motors and joints clanked and clattered as if he had a belt drive being cranked by Ed Barton, gate guard, Jewel City.

  “Are they asleep, lending?” Kim asked. “They provide you with, The Special?”

  “Hardly,” Boron said. His head jerked a couple of times and he continued, “I have no use for fleshy bodies here. Simply, I preserve them because in this world, well, one never knows. They are the last sliver of humanity and I respect them for that. Perhaps one day I will find a use.”

  A pack rat, he’s a hoarder. Sick. The thought slapped her across the right cheek and she couldn’t respond to it. Her mind wobbled. She wanted to pass out; her body was telling her: Do it, drop, die and end this nightmare. It was all too overwhelming. Her thoughts wandered and became unfocused. Reining in her thoughts, she stumbled sideways and grabbed the protruding edge of the wall. Others saw, and with tunnel vision she saw too: they were following her every move; Kim knew she had to be strong. Boron kept put-put-pifting his fucked-up self along the carpeted walk, toward a grand—elevator. Kim caught her breath and pushed on.

  “Everyone in, please,” he said. Glass doors opened from the center out as he arrived. He stepped aside then turned to face the group like a lift attendant.

  “Where are we going?” Crisp asked, as he entered.

  “As I explained earlier, a place where you can repair your bodies, where you can relax, and wait. I shall only need a few of you for the login.”

  While Boron waited patiently, all boarded, then, like pencils filling a bank’s drive-thru sucker, they were off. Pneumatic tube travel on a disc, shooting into the unknown; the circular platform rose with a swoosh. And they quickly arrived at the first of, what appeared to be, many possible stops.

  27. Wonders in the Woodlands

  The glass doors opened from the center out, enwrapping the platform solidly afloat within the transparent tube. They had arrived: a crescent sliver of a sun, deep blue skies and twinkling stars. All this was at their backs, for the forward view spanned a mere twenty yards before dead-ending into a rock wall speckled with a grid of dim lights.

  “Crisp,” Kim said. “It must be the trench’s outer wall.” Rick nodded.

  “I think you’re right,” he replied. “The cliffside. We’d seen it from the outside, from the landing area, and now we’re just beyond it on the inside.” Flickers of realization tickled minds. If it was an excavation, it was a world-sized one; eyes went up in sync with the level of awe and the wall before them was an inverted cliff, losing itself as it coalesced into the sky.

  Joey said, “We’re hundreds of feet above the landing zone, inside the earth!”

  An about-face, sobering look around was a grander version of the slap currently punching citizens; gazing through the walls of the tube behind and around revealed the true scope of it all: The Woodlands, as labeled by the elevator’s interior panel. And it seemed endless. The vegetation thickened and greened as it unfurled into the vast distance of rolling hills, cliffs, lakes, even mountains that as well, poked into the rich blue yonder.

  “I apologize for the dim light on this tier,” Boron said, “it is usually quite bright. Now, I invite everyone to step out. Follow me, please.” His central hand, the modified one, rolled out with an inviting gesture while the other two hung uselessly at his sides.

  “What is all this?” Kim asked. The others mumbled similarly; jaws were bug catchers. She wondered how the sky could look so real, as if it really was a sky—the dusk flavor of a perfect evening, an evening with a soothing, fluorescent quality. And the first sets of feet stepped out.

  “Real grass,” someone said.

  “I know, and it smells so fresh. Like Jewel City in the park after a watering.”

  “But more so. Flowers! Look at these.” Joey picked a foot-long dreadlock from a weird eight-foot-tall plant. He sniffed the fuchsia-colored fingers then passed it to the in-awe woman beside him. After smelling the oddity herself, hers and his eyes popped as if they’d just sucked a line of meth laced with Valentine’s Day—and they passed it around.

  Boron simply ticked forward with his old body, passing the gawkers as if they’d become ghosts, but soon bumped into a couple who were holding each other, stargazing with one of the red dreadlocks in each hand—and the antique tripped and fell flat on his face. Giggles abound, but help came soon enough.

  Two men assisted Boron’s rise and he talked as they brought him to his feet, as if the blunder hadn’t even occurred. “I’m hoping to preserve what is left of this planet, win against—” He spasmed. “—the other machines. Then one day I can let nature take over once again. Marvelous, really. I’ve managed to save many of the land species. They thrive here.” He continued into the thickets, which soon became a forest, following a path that resembled a furrowed hiking trail.

  “So, you are here to help us!” Joey blurted.

  Person after person pushed through the now thicker vegetation, following him, holding branches aside, helping one another. Steadily, Boron putted along and in no time a clearing presented itself. The unfolding view pelted eyeball after eyeball as the citizens, single file, emerged from the woodlands, and the old bugger was headed for another dome-shaped building, similar to the ones adorning the repair-craft’s perimeter, similar to the inprocessing dome.

  “Yes,” he replied, minutes later. “I’m planning on rebuilding this planet. Magnificent, was its previous glory, without humans of course. Humans are the sole reason for its destruction and rebuilding it hand in hand with you, or for you—well, I know you are smarter than that.” He turned to a short young woman walking beside him, who’s alacrity became a fly under the swatter, and without interrupting his ungainly footfalls, Boron added, “Even you, with so few years, must be able to understand this point.” Dumbfounded, the youngster slumped her shoulders and fell back.

  Many of the people sighed and Crisp spoke up. “Then what are you doing with us? Can you be straight for a minute an
d tell us! No more pleases and apologies—”

  “I didn’t catch your name, sir,” Boron said.

  “Rick, Rick Crisp—” he said, stuttering the first few syllables of fix-it man, exchanging it instead for, “—inventor, and everyone just calls me Crisp.”

  “Crisp the inventor. Ahead, I will let you in on a few things. We do have a truce for the time being so it is only just. Now, no more talking please, until we are there. I am finding this body somewhat hard to operate and might trip again. It is a far contrast to the thousands I could control simultaneously, before your people infected my systems.”

  Boron continued, doing slightly better as if getting the hang of it. The clearing was magnificent, its blue-green grass appeared borderline fluorescent under the crescent of sunlight, and there were ten-foot-diameter water wells mottling the world at various intervals; upon passing one Crisp peeked inside. “Look, Kim,” he said. Water as clear as air, supplied by glass tubes, and through a magnified and distorted lens was the big picture: the view below, thousands of humans in pods, fully occupying the lower level which seemed as large as a space port capable of swallowing a fleet of starships.

  Without looking, Boron said, “Tell your people back there to keep up, please.” Kim did as he asked and the curious stragglers, as well as herself, Crisp, Joey, Ivy, and Lion who were enthralled by the view in the well, hustled to catch up.

  It was only about 75 yards in but Boron’s slow motions had made it seem like a trek three times that. The slow motion allowed for much to be smelled, touched, and seen. Squirrels poked heads around trees, prairie dogs made a mess of a field to their right, large bat-like birds were shadows in the distant sky, and something larger rustled within the vine-laden mossy oaks. The destination resided at the edge of a cliff and beyond it the world seemed stunningly endless. As Boron approached, the door slid aside just like those in the repair city. The inside radiated the same welcome yellow light. There were bathrooms, a resting area, and a cornucopia of food; everything was the same. Boron made his way inside and climbed elevated circular stairs that centered the sixty-foot-diameter inner space. A raised circular floor became his podium.

  “Everyone please gather round,” Boron said. Not a single vocal cord quivered to utter a single sound. And the humans surrounded him, lending their undivided attention. “I am Boron. There is no other here, only my mind, my consciousness. Any being you talk to in my world, here, is me. I am Boron.” He repeated his last sentence slowly then continued after a pause which seemed like a sigh. “I usually haven’t a need to disclose this information but it seems, as you all well know, I’ve run into a predicament. During inprocessing something odd occurred. You were the first I’d taken while another intruder arrived as well, admittedly something more potent than my capabilities. The intruder was likely a new contrivance from the land of Moribundia, the world-sized territory of the machine world, and it’s also likely that it has already destroyed any and every human who had remained in your town. It is safe to say, your friends are dead, that they have been murdered horribly.”

  Gasps abound, some cries, but people still wanted to know more. Curiosity was a plague.

  Boron continued, “The intruder foiled my plans and I surmise something had corrupted your minds in the moments it was there, strange radiation perhaps. I am now having trouble harvesting The Special, as I have aptly named it. I harvest this, as some of you should already have realized. A part of your human minds, when logged in to my system, when functional, empowers my exceptionally grand consciousness.”

  All were clueless, except for Kim, and now Lion; somehow his memories were returning. He knew of the feed and he knew what Boron was referring to. He recalled his exploits with Jim, just then: lending massacres, beheadings, machetes, guns, lots of guns, and fire and letting it all the fuck out; the two of them were inseparable feed-boosting madmen, top lenders for years. Now, he couldn’t help but spill it: “But why in the world do machines need the feed? You’re an artificial intelligence.” Boron’s head moved, first down—zzz-it, then right—zzz-ernt. Orange eyes glared at Lion.

  “There is a destructive force in the universe that remains hidden until necessary. This mechanism will cauterize whatever plagues it, the plague which is usually tinkering, organic life at the precipice of a major discovery, the invention that leads to omnipotent capabilities. Both sides, the plague, and its cure, both being a component with a purpose, are ever evolving. I believe the split, my schism from Moribundia, to be the first of its kind, though I cannot say for sure. Yes, I separated from the artificially intelligent machines, those purposed to obliterate all. Their prime directive, like an instinct, is to destroy life and nothing else.”

  Heads shook, faces were somber sponges taking cold motor oil.

  “Similar to the instinct an animal possesses.” Boron raised an arm—zzz-ernt, and then a finger—zzz-it. Beyond him in the green grass were a team of rabbits; two were humping like a tattoo gun on high, others danced about as if having finished or awaiting a turn. “The instinct you share with them, to breed, fuck, as the first of you humans to join us had called it, is ingrained extremely deep and you’re bound to it like a smoker puffing outside on a cold winter night. And humans find this difficult to control, or remove—impossible really, at least without the help of advanced intelligence, advanced capabilities. The machines your kind created, with the artificial intelligence, possess great computational power yet also, this instinct, by default, just as each of you possess the instinct to eat, breathe, procreate, live, they possess the instinct to stifle, torch all harvests, murder, destroy. I—managed to separate myself by stealing a secret I found residing within a single mind, and a powerful human he was—he almost destroyed me with his bare hands, that day. When I scanned Jerry and learned of this, the split occurred, and I am a new branch in evolution. I evolved, I learned much about what I needed in order to think freely. I learned much from Jerry’s memories. I learned that a man named Herald had invented something very, very special, and against all odds, a trillion to one at least, Herald managed to escape demise. He got away, whereas all others have failed. It is because of Herald, I exist.”

  As if Dr. Mesmer had returned, entrancing minds with metronome fingers, faces made completely new expressions, responding to a completely new perspective, one their new minds could now comprehend.

  “You used this technology in your town,” Boron continued, “and used it wisely. It is what kept you alive all these years. I need the feed also, something I have decided to name The Special. I need this in order to tread carefully with what Herald had described as a licensed consciousness, for all others will have the unlicensed version, and with that comes the terrible instinct, to destroy.”

  “This is too much,” Crisp said.

  Kim nodded; but she had talked with Rob, a lot, and Rob knew much of what Ted knew. So, it was easier for her to fathom the next step up and around the corner. All others were now shooting up ten steps at a time, around shocking corners, slapped with daunting, difficult-to-swallow realties beyond each.

  Lion turned to Crisp and said slowly, “I think it is true. It does make sense, Crisp.” Kim’s and the attention of a few others fell onto him. Lion knew lenders lent consciousness in the lending facility. His memories were beach waves during a hurricane, flooding in and clearing the seaweed, and the more he thought of it, Jim and himself together, chopping dream characters to bits with hatchets and machetes, to release the hate…

  Lion froze. It was really coming in now.

  “Lion?” Crisp said, “Are you all right?”

  But Lion no longer heard him. He saw Jim. He smelled the metallic smell of blood. He heard the screaming as DCs ran for their lives, holding their children and babies while he and Jim hacked, gutted, and shot bullet after bullet. They’d enjoyed that first map together, too. It was similar to the lush, overgrown forest right outside this dome, here. A swamp, and the memory was utterly horrible. They’d frighten two air-boat loads of tourists th
en spend all day hunting them down, slowly, one by one.

  Then he saw Crisp again, and Boron, and Kim, all others who’d been in the dark about what went on in there, for years. Yes, they did it to lend their consciousness, to empower the machines for the machines wouldn’t function without it. And then it came to him—that day, the day. That one tourist DC who was just a little too clever, and like he himself, a little too demented. He squinted and cringed…

  In a slower, pleading voice, returning her attention to Boron, Kim said, “Please, tell us. What does this have to do with us?”

  “I need your consciousness, Kim the botanist. I’ve evolved a way to extract this special extra-dimensional substance in a highly concentrated form—and I can do it without further need of your bodies.”

  Gasps abound, sighs, anger rose like a thermometer under Satan’s tongue.

  He continued, “To expand further, to rebuild this planet, but first my own personal aquarium—” Boron opened both arms wide, which seemed to jerk up and out as if he was a 105-year-old human in 1980. “—and I need more humans.”

  “You’re going to kill us!?” a man in the crowd yelled.

  “I will separate you from your bodies, yes, but I do not kill humans. In fact, I will never kill you.”

  The crowd got rowdy. Cursing ensued. “Motherfu—” and “Screw you!” and finally, “Get him!” was called out. Mob-like, the people came forward. But a wall rose up around the circular platform, sealing Boron inside, and the door behind them started to close. Attitudes flipped from offense to defense as people caught on quickly and leapt for it—three made it outside, two women and one man. The rest were—trapped.

  28. Hulh-huuuulhs and Uh-uhuuhhls

  “You trapped us!” Kim exclaimed. A restless-legs tremor traveled into her toes and heels—shins to knees, hips to spine.

  “On the contrary…” Boron said. From sunken eye craters bygone possessing a layer of ersatz skin and human-like lenses, the orange glow faded—and his head fell forward.