Not sure what else to do, he powered it up. Nothing happened for a couple minutes, not even the usual startup icon or the holographic emitter test. Then, enveloped in that same blueish-white, ghostly glow, a bold set of numbers hovered just above the device:
42.389744, -72.530713
Coordinates. He recognized them as such from poring over escape plans at Freedom H.Q., in the days following the rocket crash. Committing them to memory, they vanished the moment he did so, and so did the glow. The phone was dead and lifeless as a rock. But just as he was about to set it down, something popped out of it. He almost dropped it to the floor in his shock, but he caught himself just in time and clutched it tight. This was one item he could scarcely afford to lose, especially now.
The something that had emerged from the phone was no 3D image, or any sort of projection at all. It seemed almost solid. Reaching out with one digit, he prodded it, and found that it actually was solid. It bounced slightly from the touch, settling back into its stately hover above the device, but now it was spinning slightly. Enticing him. A fob? Or some sort of an electronic key perhaps.
He plucked it out of the air and it resisted just slightly, like a grape being sucked out of jello. Now Alixs was really thrown off. Not by the object itself, a mere curiosity that he absentmindedly dropped in a pocket to examine later. No, he was thrown off because his device wasn’t a replicator. Nor did it have the guts within to be anything of the kind.
Replicators were hardly worth mentioning, as ubiquitous as they were these days. In fact, ten to one said there was at least one over in the farmhouse where his host was sleeping. But never, never were they mobile. Even technology had to bow to the laws of physics, and small devices could hold only small amounts of raw materials. It made no sense to have a replication device that could replicate only tiny trinkets, so the powers that be hadn’t bothered producing any.
In any case, apparently his trusty little device had grown a mind of its own, and with it the ability to do things it wasn’t supposed to be able to do. Yet another mystery to add to his mysterious dream. And his sudden compulsion to abandon the plan, a compulsion which seemed to settle into his bones the longer he thought about it. Had he been thinking along those lines before the dream? It was hard to say. Perhaps he was dreaming still? Then exhaustion hit him hard and he fell back into the bed, his quirky mobile settling gently to the floor of its’ own accord as it fell from his open palm. It wasn’t supposed to float, either, but that was, apparently, yet another new feature.
In the morning, Alixs gathered his belongings and checked in with the farmer, thanking him again for his hospitality and, more importantly, for the courage it took to help. Then he set off in the direction of his next checkpoint, but only until he was out of sight of the farm. He then oriented himself to the freshly memorized coordinates, and changed course. A few miles along, he remembered the fob. He felt around in his pocket until he found it, safe and sound, and slightly warm to the touch.
60.
After smooth travels for a day and a half, Alixs ran into trouble. It was inevitable that he’d have to deal with people at some point. But the original plan called for friendlies along the way, to help see them through. Now that he was on his own, not only were there no people he could count on, he was almost sure to run into locals who didn’t care for wandering terrorists. Fortunately, his face was still unknown outside of law enforcement circles. But it would be hard to disguise his xeno side entirely. So he decided not to bother, instead going with the tried and true method of looking the part of a wide-eyed tourist, straight off the Tera-Prime turnip truck. A harmless curiosity, posing no threat to anyone.
This pattern worked well enough in larger towns, but in the sticks it was harder to justify himself. Hoping for the best, he introduced himself as a recent graduate exploring the countryside, a backpacker, just looking for a quick charge before heading back to the trails. He got himself along that way for another day and a half, until on the fourth morning, just as he was about to go off-road, a patrol car rolled up.
The cop on the passenger side, without so much as a hello, demanded to see some identification. Feeling sick, Alixs reached down to his pockets, patting around for his flimsy credentials. When he noticed the odd glow, he wondered why it didn’t feel hot against his skin, or at least warm. A glow-in-the-dark device wouldn’t do him much good either way, unless it suddenly developed the ability to shoot laser beams, but it was still funny where the mind went in times of crisis. In any case, he didn’t feel it prudent to take the device out, lest the cops take a liking to it and decide to pocket it for themselves,. So instead he felt around it until he got his fingers on the plastic. It was a legitimate state ID from Florida — it might just work, assuming they didn’t run a nationwide check.
But he never pulled the ID card out. Just at that moment, the fob pulsated again, hot white this time. Seconds later, the radio squawked. It was loud enough for Alixs to hear the dispatcher, who sounded out of breath and urgent.
***All available, check in. We’ve got a situation. Power fail, need all available downtown for traffic control. Check in asap.***
The voice on the radio pronounced the last word in full rather than spell out the letters. Aee-sap. The cops looked at each other with annoyed expressions, as though their day had just been ruined. The passenger side cop looked back at Alixs, hesitated for a moment, then gave him a quasi-friendly wave. He thrust his other arm forward in a ‘let’s go’ gesture, promoting the monitor cop to gun it and peel out. Alixs watched them fly away, deep breaths catching in his throat as he processed just how screwed he’d almost been just then. As soon as they were out of sight, he ducked into some brush by the side of the road and, out of sight for the time being, allowed himself to fall apart and cry. He’d never felt so vulnerable.
THOUGH ALIXS’ MOBILE device never glowed again that day, the presence behind it was watching him. It had been ever since he gave permission, in fact, a peculiar requirement that was rather vestigial. But the Mind of Tera-Prime wasn’t in the habit of making major changes, not without devoting years to careful consideration, much as it had done here, before deciding to reach out to one faction over another. The probabilities had favored such a move for ages, and it had taken just as long for the Mind to come to an educated decision. As the sentient permissions subroutine was of no immediate concern, no processing power would be devoted to changing it, though it would be reexamined periodically, just as with all other parameters.
Following the adjustment in dispatch parameters for the benefit of the contactee, the Mind would continue monitoring his progress, intervening only to protect the schedule. Alternatives were in progress and available if needed, but for now, the primary mission was unfolding within acceptable risk parameters. Further direct contact would not be necessary until the contactee reached the access node. The Mind began preparing the node for its intended purpose, as well as updating the mission models to reflect recent adjustments.
ALIXS MADE GOOD HEADWAY, and was relieved to find himself across county lines by mid-morning. He hitched his way to a touristy spot off the highway, where he was able to get a charge and collect himself before deciding how much further to go before dark.
Setting up a proxy so as not to be tracked, he routed his search overseas, seeking more details about those mysterious coordinates he had abandoned his plans to locate. It was a plain looking, industrial-sized building in the middle of what looked like a campus, or perhaps a research facility? No, definitely a campus. He could tell from the layout that it was a rather generic, probably public university, expanded over the decades, until it was almost the size of an urban center.
It would probably take several more days to get there, depending on his luck finding rides, and how long he could stretch his power requirements. He considered trying to get a message out to his friends, but there was no logical way to explain his decision to deviate from the plan. They’d just as likely assume he’d been compromised, and act accordin
gly. At least, that’s what they should do, although he wasn’t sure if they’d go through with it or not. Either way, getting in touch with them wasn’t a good idea until he knew more, and the answers were waiting for him in that nondescript building up north.
61.
The once-bustling downtown had become a ghostly place. After the removal of the free evolution element, the peace forcers had taken to cracking down on other unsavory elements. This had the effect of driving the humans away. And without humans to drive the economy, previously robust businesses began to close their doors.
As the only real necessity for xenos was energy, jump-stations were the only viable businesses anymore. And even these began to dwindle as more xenos took to staying home. They could get their power requirements in their dwellings, through personal-use hookups. Somewhat slower, but it did the trick. Under the circumstances, the trade-off was acceptable. Nobody wanted to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Then curfews came into force, dictating that citizens remain indoors from dusk to dawn anyway, furthering the demise of prosperity until there was nothing left but emptiness.
Citizens were forced into submission by increasingly draconian regulations —enforced not only by the ‘forcers themselves, but by increased application of Cain’s dreaded Loktr swarm. Used to great impact whenever Cain chose to drive his policies home, it was an unmistakable sign of who was in charge. Sometimes flown overhead to intimidate the population, Cain wasn’t afraid to weaponize on occasion. Anything to keep the people on edge.
An underground railroad, seemingly the only alternative for the oppressed, began to take shape. Ever since the freevo’s had made their bold exit, the option of escaping through the electronic frontier no longer existed. Not unless one fancied a quick suicide run. But there were still ways to move about now, in two’s and three’s, stowed on commerce vehicles, who’s wheel monitors were sympathetic to the cause. Or else there was always the option of forged papers. Xenos who were considered ‘good citizens’ were able to move about the city, and the world, in relative freedom. The papers of such citizens could be obtained and altered to suit the needs of the desperate.
For the most part, however, xenos remained within city limits. They had no where else to go, and Tera-Prime was the only home most of them had ever known. And though the situation grew more dire by the day, the notion of becoming a fugitive was even worse for most to consider. As long as the peace forcers were going after criminals and not ordinary folk, most reasoned that they could remain safe, so long as they kept their heads down and kept to themselves. Still, the ranks of escapees were swelling, as more and more of them realized that staying put might just be the last mistake they’d ever make. With Cain the madman at the helm, it hardly seemed logical to go down with this sinking ship.
“THESE ENFORCEMENT TECHNIQUES are effective,” Cain said, looming over the first administrator’s desk with more than a hint of menace in his eyes.
“They’re excessive. We’re not in the business of intimidating ordinary citizens.”
“Citizens who’re plotting against the government? Damned right we need to intimidate them. And worse. You need to authorize additional swarms.”
“Loktr’s again? That microscopic goon squad of yours has done nothing to restore order to the city. The number of complaints I’ve received has been nothing short of overwhelming.”
“They’re stretched too thin. If I had more swarms, I could blanket the city and take out the unfriendlies fast. Then we’d have order restored, and you’d get your precious city back. Only then. And besides, we’re going to have to go after the rebels on the outside sooner or later. I can’t do all that with just the one swarm.”
They’d had this argument before. Ever since Cain learned that the mass-production of swarms was underway, he’d been angling to enhance his fleet. While one swarm had been effective as a tool of intimidation, if he wanted to truly subjugate the lawbreakers, he needed more. He needed to blanket the city, cover more ground, keep those microscopic eyes on the population at every turn. Only then could he restore order to his beleaguered city.
THE ROGUE SWARM INCIDENT made international news. Human and xeno rights activists alike had been protesting the use of these mechanical suppression devices since they were first brought online. But when a swarm got away from operational control, flying into a crowd of European tourists no less, calls for their banishment came from all quarters.
In response to the outrage, Cain doubled down, sending more swarms out into the city in order to maintain control. Nation after nation condemned the government of Tera-Prime as having gone rogue. Citizens were warned to avoid the city at all costs, and the deterioration of a once-great metropolis began in earnest.
62.
The small northeastern college town was well past carrying capacity, under the burden of an expansive, bustling student population. This included a fair representation from Tera-Prime, enough to allow Alixs to feel comfortable in his own skin for the first time since departing Florida. Of course, he was still a fugitive, but at least he could enter nondescript cafes and other gathering places, so long as he kept his head down and minded his business. None of the shop staffers paid much attention, not with demanding customers around to handle. Alixs was free to roam, relax, and figure out what to do next.
Long ago, the university had demolished the computer science building, and rebuilt a new structure on the site. That meant his objective had to lie underground for any of this to make sense. Since the original building was long gone, the logical assumption was that some underground apparatus remained. Since he had no further information, no set of instructions, and no help, he would have to begin at square one, do some reconnaissance on the building sitting atop his objective.
Unfortunately for him, the new building was a sort of fine arts center, which made infiltration exceedingly difficult, since xenos rarely if ever engaged in any artistic endeavors. It wasn’t unheard of for a xeno to take a class for simple intellectual pursuit, but even that was unusual, and could turn heads. Alixs took two days to keep watch on the building and figure out the patterns before jumping in, an excuse of class observation at the ready should anyone ask.
Nobody did, and he found himself wandering the corridors of the place unnoticed. He had to resist the urge to block his auditories. The cacophony of a hundred quasi-professional musicians blaring their practice regimens as one was deafening, despite the fact that the practice chambers were ostensibly soundproofed. No wonder a xeno wouldn’t be caught dead.
Alixs snuck through a custodial door and located the staircase he’d found on a schematic. Hurrying down into the bowels of the place, he breathed a sign of relief as the noise of the musicians’ collective faded to a distant din. He pulled out his mobile and found it glowing again, bright enough to see by. This was a useful bonus, as he wasn’t sure who might be down this far, and he wasn’t at all enthusiastic about throwing on a bunch of lights, even if he could find them.
Peering at the tiny face of his device, he could just barely make out a darker spot of blue. A 3D icon of some kind, hovering in the blue cloud. Just like before, the device wasn’t set up to belch blue clouds. That simple fact was enough to draw his attention to it, which seemed to be the point. Looking closer, it was an arrow, and he realized that the ghostly compass was pointing out the way. Without any other options at the ready, he followed it.
Though the mobile provided enough light to see by, he couldn’t make out much beyond a foot or two in front of his face, so he had to continue moving rather slowly. But now that the noise level had abated, he felt as though there was no hurry. It was eerie, being down here in what amounted to an abandoned dungeon, below a modern day building. The walls were damp, and holding out the mobile close he could see trickles of water running down the concrete. Or was it dirt? Difficult to tell. The floor crunched with each step. By the look of the cobwebs he had to shoo away every yard or so, nobody had been down here in ages.
Pressing on,
he squinted in his effort to make out the path ahead. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the imagination or not, but he thought he could see a faint, blueish-white glow, filtering in from far down the corridor. Walking forward, it seemed to disappear, and he decided it must have been a weird reflection of his own glowing device. But then he saw it again, this time from his left. Looking down, the arrow had also re-aligned so that it was pointing to the left, but when he stepped that way he just about smacked his face against a solid wall.
A GOOD HALF-HOUR AFTER hitting the wall, a near-literal interpretation that evoked scant amusement despite the truth of it, Alixs had made no progress. Nor had a search of the remaining corridors revealed any hidden doors, stairways, or other access ways. The entire labyrinth seemed to wind to an abrupt end at his current position. He re-traced his steps, examining the floors and the ceiling, peering into every corner — then he groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to smack himself in the forehead. He looked down at the blue-white glow, that all along he’d used as a torch, without thinking to refer back to it after the directions had dead-ended. The clue was right there, in the light, though it had taken a turn to the absurd. The formerly useful directional arrow had morphed into a math problem.
He wondered if it was a test. If so, it seemed a fairly simplistic one. It had the look of a primary school cognition puzzle, though one that wasn’t particularly familiar. It was a ‘solve for’ spacial grid. Looking at it closely, he realized it was demanding an interdimensional solution. He began solving for the missing piece, which was glowing red and throwing off the hue of his comforting blue-white.
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