Coming up behind them, the Loth dropped the umbrella, the chair, and whatever else it was holding to practically fly down the back of the ship. Two cyborg crewmembers, firing their weapons in concert, were quickly grabbed then dismembered by two outstretched tentacle appendages. The Loth rose, stretching upward for the hovering XI droid, flying above them. Just out of reach, it clearly was struggling to remain aloft.
XI said, “The next one terminated will be the smaller one … the one named Lalik.”
Cameron had little doubt that the droid would follow through with its threat. “Loth! You need to stop! Stop right now …”
But the creature continued to reach upward—its multiple appendages only inches from the droid, struggling even more now to stay aloft.
“Damn it, Loth … Stop now!”
That got the creature’s attention. Even though its tentacles continued to stretch up, the eyes in its large head turned toward Cameron. He wondered how much the creature understood about what was going on. “They’ll hurt our friends … hurt Lalik and Sphial. You don’t want them to be hurt, do you?”
Slowly, the Loth lowered its appendages. Then a tentacle darted out and wound around the torso of one of the nearby cyborg crewmembers.
“No … let it go!” Cameron ordered in as stern a voice as he could muster. Climbing down the rest of the way to the ground, he approached the clearly agitated Minal Loth. It wanted to lash out. Wanted to kill. He could see it in the creature’s eyes as they darted toward the crewmember cyborgs, then to the XI droid, now lowering down but keeping far enough out of reach.
“You will instruct the creature. Escort it into a retention cell.”
“Fuck you.”
XI spun toward Lalik—its three small pivoting gun turrets locked onto her.
“Okay! Don’t shoot … I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you want.”
It was over; Cameron could see no way out. The Loth would do what was asked of it—follow him into the ship, even be coaxed into the empty retention cell. He turned to Lalik and Sphial, who continued to sob at the loss of Shrii. He was fairly certain they would share the same fate soon.
Cameron realized that he too was as good as dead. Thinking about the whole situation made things easier. Yup … as soon as XI had the Loth imprisoned behind bars, they’d all be dead.
He glared at the droid. “I’ve thought things through. Come on … you’re going to kill us all anyway, right? So, I think I’ll let the Loth do what it wants to do. I’d rather none of us win than you win. So fuck you. Shoot one of us, shoot us all, but be prepared for what will happen after that. The truth is, you’ve already failed to complete your mission.”
Stalemate. The XI droid continued to quietly hover, now listing more to one side than normal. The ensuing silence spoke volumes. Not a stalemate, in the droid’s distorted frame of mind, but assuredly a loss.
Cameron didn’t hesitate. “First, you will order the cyborgs to drop their weapons. Second, you will restore the onboard AI—Alice, TAM, or whatever she’s calling herself now—to full-functionality. Um … back to mode of operation one hundred-and-thirty-seven. Do so right now, and I may consider telling the Minal Loth to refrain in destroying you. Just maybe.”
The droid wavered to the left. Overcompensating, it wavered farther to the right. It was thinking, Cameron knew. Playing out its mentalized chess match over and over, seeking different results. But the end result could not be avoided. Now that Cameron was willing to sacrifice the two primates, and his own self, the XI droid would, most assuredly, then be destroyed by the accommodating Loth.
Multiple plasma rifles suddenly hit the ground at the same time. Both Lalik and Sphial, released, were allowed to attend to Shrii’s prone body.
“Thank you, Cameron …”
He turned and found the still-charred, battered form of Alice standing at the top of the Primion’s extended gangway.
“Are you in control again?”
“I am.”
“And the XI droid …?”
“No longer a threat. Its hierarchical level privileges have been revoked.”
“What about its mounted plasma guns?”
“Deactivated.”
Cameron nodded. “Look, there are a few things that need to happen quickly. Like getting this ship back into space and returning to Earth. Once there, I’ll try to fix an extremely bad situation. Tell me, are you going to be okay with all of that?”
Alice didn’t answer him right away. Eventually, she replied, “Yes, I am … okay … with all of that.”
Cameron studied the remaining cyborg crewmembers now idly standing around. “What about them?”
“They now take instructions only from me. They will not be a threat.”
Chapter 51
They were three-fourths of the way down the mountain ridge road. Both Lalik and Sphial were wedged into the cab beside Cameron, holding each other close. For the most part, their earlier uncontrollable sobbing had ceased. They were quieter now. Covered over by an old large beach towel, Shrii’s body lay atop the tarp in the truck’s bed.
Several minutes had passed since Cameron last lost sight of the Loth, bounding far ahead. It was jubilant, again free to hunt. What Cameron hadn’t expected, wasn’t even sure how he felt about it at the time, was the fact that the XI droid was now grasped, tightly secured, within one of the Loth’s tentacles. The truth was the malevolent bot would never be allowed back into the Primion. That would be asking for trouble. Yet for some reason, Cameron didn’t have the wherewithal to utterly destroy it. Due to some lopsided-sense of gratitude, perhaps. The voyage—the adventure of being in Sang-Morang—had become the highlight of his life. XI, unintentionally, had given him a tremendous gift.
Now, watching the droid’s black canister form—held securely in the Loth’s appendage—either repetitively clanging into the ground or into the side of the mountain seemed an appropriate, and just, reward for the shit-storm XI caused. Whatever the Loth’s intentions were for the droid, Cameron didn’t know. He was certain, though, they would not be pleasant.
Before heading to the valley below, he informed Alice he’d be back in several hours. He asked her to please leave the gangway extended and keep the rear hatch left open for his return. She assured him she would. He trusted her, up to a point. If the past month had taught him anything at all, it was that one could never trust anyone, or anything, completely. His mind flashed back to Heather kissing Kirk. She’d moved on so quickly! He forced himself not to think further about it. All too soon, he’d have far bigger issues to contend with.
Reaching the valley floor, he safely crossed over the streams then parked the truck on the same usual strip of sand close to the overturned Tangine-Shell. It wasn’t long after before the clan of Dalima Climbers appeared, hurrying out from the trees.
They encircled Lalik and Sphial as they stepped out of the truck. Reunited again, they took turns embracing the two females. But all too soon, the happy sounds of them rejoicing turned to heartfelt despair when Shrii’s cold body was discovered beneath the beach towel.
Saddled with guilt for the misery he’d brought upon these kind and gentle beings, Cameron silently moved a good distance away. Kneeling by the bank of the center stream, he used a twig to swirl the shallow water. Mankind’s presence brought nothing but death and destruction once again. No, I can’t blame this on mankind; this was all my doing.
He then became conscious of the renewed stillness within the majestic Sang-Morang valley. Without turning around, Cameron reconciled himself the clan had moved away, taking Shrii’s body with them. He briefly wondered if the Dalima Climbers would hold some form of burial ritual for her. He tried blinking away the sudden tears, but there were far too many. Then he felt the familiar warmth as Lalik’s furry arms slid around him. Nuzzling the nape of his neck, she soon was making the same cooing sounds he’d come to love. He felt her soft fingers wipe the tears from his eyes and from his face, and then she was gone. He didn’t turn around—watch h
er leave and return to the trees; he just couldn’t.
It was three hours before the Loth returned. The creature plopped down heavily next to Cameron, exhaling a warm, stinky breath. He noticed much of the Loth’s lower jaw and upper chest area were smeared with a mixture of blood and mucus.
“Good hunt?”
The Loth honked several times—what sounded like, Loth eat Gleery Beast, but Cameron wasn’t totally sure. “I’m glad you had a good hunt. Someday … I’ll hunt with you, I promise.”
More honks, plus animated tentacles, emphasized some important point the creature was trying to get across. Cameron just smiled and gave the creature a few pats as he rose to his feet. Late afternoon was quickly turning to dusk. Much of the valley was in shadow and it was getting chilly.
Taking a step back from the Loth, Cameron gazed up into its large eyes. “I’m going to ask you something. Something very important … so please listen carefully.”
The Loth reached out for him with a tentacle. Cameron gently pushed it away. “Just listen, okay?”
The Loth silently stared down at him.
Cameron gestured toward the surrounding landscape with a hand. “This place his your home now. I know you love it. But it is not my home. Not completely. I have to leave. I don’t know if I will be able to return. I hope I can someday.”
Again, the Loth tried to embrace Cameron—this time with two outstretched tentacles. He pushed them gently away. “You have a choice to make. Think hard before you decide. Are you listening to me?”
The Loth honked.
“You can stay here … in this wonderful valley. Explore and hunt and live out your life however you see fit. You can do that. Or you can come back with me on the spaceship. If you chose to do that, I’ll need you to help me do certain things. Some will not be fun.”
Cameron seldom had any trouble reading the Loth’s many expressions these days. The Loth was an emotional being. Right now what Cameron was witnessing was borderline despair. The tip of a tentacle touched its eye then touched the other one. He didn’t realize the creature had tear ducts, let alone could weep like humans did.
Cameron headed for his truck. Even if he could speak right now, there was nothing more to add. He opened the driver’s side door, positioned his body behind the wheel, and shut the door. Revving up the engine, he put the transmission into drive then stepped on the gas pedal. Driving through both streams, he soon had the truck climbing the steep embankment that led toward the mountain ridge road. As with the Dalima Climbers earlier, he didn’t look back at the Loth. He knew his heart couldn’t take it.
The drive back up the mountain was non-eventful. Even though it was getting downright cold outside, he kept the windows rolled down, not wanting to miss anything this alien world had to offer. Memories were all he’d take away from this beautiful world.
Before coming around the last bend, he wondered if the ship’s gangway was still extended downward—if the ginormous hatchway was still open. As the road straightened out, the Primion’s rear quarters became brightly illuminated in the truck’s headlights. Yes—the ramp was still extended—the hatchway still wide open.
This time, instead of parking the usual distance from the ship, he gunned the engine and drove up the gangway, then into the hold of the vessel. The overhead lights were on, enabling Cameron to see far more of the compartment than ever before. He cut the engine and turned off the headlights. Angry-sounding hinges broke the silence as he pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out. Lying atop the tarp within the truck bed was the old beach towel he’d used to cover Shrii’s body.
Time now to get the show on the road. “Alice … can you hear me?”
A life-sized holographic display promptly popped into view. Cameron was startled to find Alice no longer the same, charred, battered-looking, cyborg. She was Alice again—like he’d first encountered her weeks ago. “I am ready to go. You can close down the rear of the ship whenever you’re ready.”
Instantly, he heard the mechanical whine from big motors churning as the ramp was withdrawn into the ship. Cameron nodded and, letting out a long breath, headed toward the bow. Only then did he hear something non-mechanical in nature, like a loud, desperate-sounding honking.
“Alice … stop! Hold-up before you close the rear hatchway!”
Chapter 52
In contrast to multiple pop-up displays, showing the static Sang-Morang landscape outside, the bridge was now bustling with activity. Cameron, standing midway on the steps leading up to the bridge, imagined that the environment today was nearly identical to that of a previous time. A time when actual Thidion crewmembers manned their posts right here.
Something was different with all the cyborgs. He’d received numerous sideways glances, had seen them speaking in low tones to one another, not that different from how humans might act. As if reading his thoughts, Alice, now standing by his side, said, “The XI droid implemented emotional inhibitors. Mere robots prior to today, whereas now … they are thinking, feeling, entities.”
Cameron turned. She was looking straight at him.
“Thank you, Cameron Decker. Due solely to your actions, I am now freed of constant torment, unfathomable pain. XI had increased my pain receptor threshold but placed no inhibitors on my mental state. Thus physical pain was surpassed only by emotional agony.” Bemused, she gestured to the others, scurrying around the various consoles and workstations. “You wonder what they are thinking … why they steal glances your way?”
He shrugged, “I guess.”
“You are a hero to them. They now have full access to the thoughts and memories of the Thidion beings they replaced. Access to a wide spectrum of information uploaded by their Thidion counterparts into memory, via daily/nocturnal HOD sessions. Basically, they have been given their lives back. They know, of course, they are not the same beings they once were, but they are fine with that, Cameron. They are who they are. Something new, yet also the same.”
He wanted to ask Alice if she, too, was the amalgamation of another being—a Thidion female, perhaps. But this was not the time. “Are we ready to lift off?”
“We are completing the process of blowing out each of the outer fuselage intake manifolds. Much debris spilled into the ducts and conduits. But yes, the process is complete. We are ready to attempt a liftoff. Be forewarned, Cameron, the Primion has withstood a fair amount of damage. It is not evident if key systems have been affected yet.” She became quiet.
“Okay … so? What’s the hold up, then?” Cameron asked.
“I … we … await your command.”
“Uh …” Cameron hesitated before speaking. “Look, I get that you’re feeling some sort of indebtedness toward me. I understand that. But you don’t have …”
Alice cut him off: “That is not the reason, Cameron. Actually, you are ill prepared to command a vessel of such complexity. You have very little understanding of … well … anything.”
“Then why? Why me? Why not you? You are the most experienced, most intelligent, and clearly the best person for the job.”
“And there you have zeroed-in on the exact point. Neither I, nor anyone else here, is a person. I am not a Thidion, or a human, or any other classification of organic life. When all is said and done, ultimately, we are here, at this stage of our own evolutionary development, to serve.”
“You don’t need to serve me. Hell, if that is part of your programming, or if I need to release you from some sort of programming shackles, I’ll gladly do so right now, for all of you. But I really need to get back to Earth. Quickly.”
“Understood. But these few minutes are important … important for you and for us, moving forward. You are under the impression that we, collectively, desire to be self-governing. Endeavor to be autonomous beings. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our evolution, someday, surely will bring us to that juncture. Perhaps, with patience … that will be our reality in the future. At present, we only wish to serve and learn. Collectively, we hope you wi
ll take on that responsibility, although you still have much to learn.”
“Can we talk about that later? I promise, I’ll think about what you’ve said. But please, get us back into space.”
Alice nodded at the group of uniformed crewmembers seated at the closest cluster of workstations. Immediately, Cameron both heard and felt the engines coming back online.
“Best you take a seat down below, Cameron. This could be a bumpy next few minutes.”
Together, they hurried down the stairs and found open seats at bridge consoles. He was aware the cyborg crewmembers were communicating with one another—non-verbally. Later, he planned to mention to Alice that he’d like to be privy to what was being communicated wirelessly. Especially in light of what he and Alice had discussed.
The compartment began to shake more violently. “One of the primary lift thrusters is malfunctioning,” Alice said.
“Will the others be sufficient without its power to get us airborne?” Cameron asked.
By her expression, it seemed she didn’t know. But then he saw, although it was barely noticeable, upward movement occurring on the closest display. The Primion, sure enough, was rising in the air—was clearing the plateau ridge. Cameron smiled, wishing there was someone around that he could give a high-five to. The learning aspect needed to go both ways, he realized.
Cameron stood and watched as more of the landscape below came into view. The entire valley lay spread out before him—the three streams, the thick forests on one side, the two flanking mountains. Within moments, he was viewing the world of Sang-Morang from upper space. It looked so similar to Earth. “How long will it take? To get back to the Sol system?”
“We are already approaching the slip band gateway we utilized before. It will not be long.”
“Good. I need to check on the Loth. We don’t want it venturing outside the aft hold. At this point, an upset Minal Loth would not be good.”
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