by Paul Anlee
She smiled reassuringly and said, “No, of course not. You now have the best protection available. Your integrity will never be breached again.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth before dozens of the Trillians stationed along the beach broke ranks and hurried to check out various sightings of the clones.
Over the howl of the wind, the trio could make out the excited shouts, “Over here,” and, “I see them!”
Darya helped Mary to her feet. “Let’s just keep a steady pace. No need to run. And we should spread out a few meters apart. It’ll make us harder to spot. It won’t take Trillian long to figure out that we’ve made our own clones.”
“Mary,” she suggested, “you stay closest to the jungle and a little ahead of the group. Timothy, you continue on the current path but let Mary get a good 20 meters ahead of you. I’ll fall back another 20-30 meters and keep to the outer edges where the bushes meet the sand. The shed’s only about half a kilometer away now. Let’s keep moving. I should be able to keep an eye on the beachside Trillians from the rear without being seen.”
They could see the cabins and service shed in the large complex 500 meters ahead. Darya hoped the Servitors had left the buildings to join the search along the beach. She preferred stealth over aggression, but she’d fight if she had to.
Thunder crashed around them as they broke away from the protection of the lush jungle and walked briskly across the grass toward the complex.
Mary and Timothy reached the first large cabina. They crouched low and tight against the rustic-looking wall, minimally sheltered by the inadequate eaves.
“If we get out of this I’m never coming back here again,” yelled Mary over the crashing thunder.
“You told me this was a nice place,” Timothy huffed.
Darya stared back, speechless, until all three broke into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The relief was energizing. “Come on,” she said, directing them along the wall of the building.
Now that they couldn’t be seen from the beach they felt a little more secure. Still, they couldn’t afford to be careless. Trillian would not be easily evaded. His clones were popping up everywhere, and the number was growing by the minute.
The service shed, their only hope for getting out of Vacationland and back to their trueselves, came into view on the other end of an enormous swimming area made of interconnecting lagoons. A swim-up bar joined two parts of the nearest pool.
Normally, the pools would be filled with raucous sound of families playing, but it was empty today. The water looked cold and the wind whipped up little whitecaps.
Lacking orders from the Supervisor, four Partial staff huddled under the protection of the thatched roof of the bar. They hadn’t been converted into Trillians yet but there was no easy way to reach the shed without passing within view of them.
“Shall we make a run for it or would you rather skirt around to the other side of the complex?” Darya asked her friends.
Timothy surveyed the layout of the buildings without comment. “Listen,” said Mary, “this poor choice of a body is exhausted. I might have enough in me for one more dash but the longer we go, the more tired I get. I say we run for it.”
Timothy looked as if he wanted to object, but pressed his quivering lips together and nodded.
“Right. Let’s do it. I’ll start running around the beachside of the pool. If there are any Trillians lurking around, I should be able to draw them out and away. You two wait fifteen seconds and then start walking around this side. Go quickly and confidently, but don’t run unless you’re spotted.
Inside the shed to the right, you’ll find a light switch. Flick the lights on and off quickly, three times in a row, and you’ll be taken to the broadcast control room. Mary can get you to your bodies from there.”
“What about you?” Mary asked.
Darya looked grim. “With any luck, I’ll be there before you. If anyone tries to stop me, I may be delayed a little while I take care of them.” With that, she bolted.
She got about two-thirds of the way around the first pool, when a Trillian stepped out from the jungle skirting the complex, not too far from where Mary and Timothy stood waiting. He assessed the situation: Darya running on one side, and the other two about to make their own dash.
The Trillian closed his eyes, and bartenders and waiters changed into determined-looking clones. Two more emerged from the kitchen brandishing large butcher knives. All six charged at the now-sprinting Darya.
Mary and Timothy took off past the Trillian, hoping to reach the shed before he opened his eyes and realized they were gone.
His conversion of the waiters complete, Trillian lunged for Mary as she ran past. “I wish you’d stay a while longer,” he said, spinning her around with an iron grip on one wrist.
Timothy jerked to a halt and wheeled. He couldn’t just leave Mary there. She was spent, and Trillian was no easy foe. Living by the gentleman’s code, he had no choice but to respond to a lady in distress. He screamed and charged, tackling their adversary below the waist.
The force drove Trillian backward, and he let go of Mary to deal with the butler. Somehow, he managed to stay on his feet. The two men wrestled, but Trillian was stronger and more skilled.
“You should’ve stayed in DonTon where you belong, Partial,” he sneered, pinning Timothy’s face to the ground.
On the far side of the pool, the other Trillians clashed with Darya. The princess dropped to her knees at full steam, slid below the blows of the two leading clones, and pulled their legs out from under them as she passed. The two went down hard and fast, smacking face-first into the cement apron of the pool. Another pair of clones reached out to pin her arms, while the pair holding knives caught up and moved in.
Darya writhed furiously. The Trillians holding her arms struggled to maintain their grip. She caught the man on her right in a scissors grip with her legs and pulled down on his head with everything she had. The clone flipped head-over-heels right into the two with knives.
The second clone maintained his grip on her wrist. Darya sprang to her feet, but the Trillian held fast. She leaped upward, extending to the full length of the arm he still held and delivered a powerful spinning kick to his head. The clone released her and fell into the pool either unconscious or dead, she didn’t care which.
Only three more Trillians stood between her and the shed. The two with knives that had landed in a heap when she flung their comrade into them were already on their feet again and advancing. The armed men approached her first, while the unarmed clone circled behind her.
One of the knife-wielding clones slashed at her wildly, but this Trillian had little skill in hand-to-hand combat. Amateur—she laughed as she dodged his swipe.
Ooph! The crushing attack from behind knocked the cockiness off her face and the wind out of her lungs in one blow. Darya planted her feet and slackened her knees to absorb the blow.
The Trillian threw a bear hug around her, pinning her arms tight. He growled as he yanked her feet off the ground, exposing her belly to the incoming knives.
Bracing herself against him, Darya kicked upward hard and sent the pair of blades tumbling through the air. The momentum of the advancing Trillians brought the approaching clones within reach. She cocked her legs again and snapped powerful heel kicks at their noses. They fell back, and didn’t get up.
The force of her kicks drove the clone holding her off balance and he toppled backward, with Darya still in his clutches. She slammed her head back into his face, and the two hit the pool deck together with a single thud.
Air whooshed out of the clone’s lungs and he let go of Darya. She rolled away and sprang to a crouch. The clone had no more fight in him. Blood seeped from the back of his head onto the decorative rock, and his glazed eyes stared into space.
Darya tore her eyes away and scouted the path to the shed. A loud splash from across the pool caught her attention. The Trillian there, caught up in his struggle with Timothy, had grossly u
nderestimated Mary’s strength and resolve. He looked up from the pinned butler just as Mary flew into him. The tackle knocked him off Timothy, but sent her and the clone careening into the pool. She was still gripping his jacket in unbridled rage when they hit the water.
“No! Mary!” cried Darya.
The Trillian rolled as he landed in the water, and found his footing before Mary recovered hers. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her under.
Timothy struggled to his feet. His eyes went to the pair struggling in the water. Mary surfaced, sputtering. He got two steps toward the pool before she saw him. Her eyes went wide.
“Timothy, run! Get to the shed,” Mary ordered. He hesitated, his eyes flicking agonizingly back and forth between her face and Trillian’s. Before he could jump, seven more clones burst from the jungle behind him and rushed forward.
“Get out of here,” Mary ordered, “Go!” There was nothing he could do for her.
“You can’t help her,” Darya shouted, “Run! Now!”
Timothy turned and ran for the service shed as fast as he could.
Trillian smiled and pushed Mary underwater again. A dozen more clones ran out of the kitchen, brandishing knives and charged toward Darya. It was hopeless. I’m sorry Mary!
Darya reached the flimsy wooden shed door and kicked it open. Timothy almost collided into her. She pushed him through the doorway ahead of her, stepped inside, and flicked the light switch three times.
* * *
The raging storm was gone. Darya and Timothy were surrounded by monitors, gauges, and buttons in some kind of control room. Instrumentation buzzed, hummed and flickered. Darya reached past Timothy and pushed a button in the middle of one panel.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Now we can’t be followed.” She scanned monitors, pushed buttons, set dials, and tweaked sliders without a word. Satisfied with the adjustments, she placed both hands on the control console and hung her head. Quiet sobs rose from her trembling frame.
Timothy didn’t know what to do. He made an awkward move toward her but she shook her head angrily: Back off. He could do nothing but watch as the sobs grew into great cries that wracked her body. Her long, dark tangles hung down, dripping rainwater onto the edge of the console.
It didn’t last more than a minute. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “She was my best friend. More than a friend. How can such weak words describe someone you’ve known for millions of years? We did everything inworld together; she was like a sister to me. We worked so hard on trying to slow Alum down.” She shook her head and almost burst into tears again.
“Goodbye for now, Mary,” she whispered. “If you survive, I’ll find you,” she promised. She pulled herself upright and pushed her hair, still dripping, over her shoulders. She made a few more adjustments at the console and a blue cylindrical beam the width of a person’s shoulders appeared at the edge of the chamber.
“That is freedom,” she said to Timothy. “I’ve set this to broadcast you out of here, but the location code is Gerhardt’s body. Once you’re conscious again, don’t move, don’t do anything, don’t try anything until I get there to help you. Being in a body for the first time won’t come naturally. You don’t have the concepta routines for it, so wait for me. You got that? Wait for me.”
“Very well. You want me to wait?” Timothy asked, a little peeved.
“Sorry,” Darya apologized. “It’s just…this is important. It might take me a while to get to you; I want you to play dead until I arrive.”
“How will I recognize you? What do you look like as a Cybrid?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll come visit you inside your concept-space. I’ll look and sound the same as here.” She extended her arms and shook them off; water sprayed in all directions and added to the small puddles at their feet. “Well, I hope to be drier. But I’ll be the ‘me’ that you’ve known since New York.”
“So what do I do now?”
“Step into the blue beam. It’ll take you to your new body. I’ll reset the controls and go to mine. I can sneak both of us out of the recharging stations and back to my lab at Secondus. We’ll be safe there until I can figure out what to do next.”
Timothy waited for her to add something, further instructions, some lame encouragement. Anything. Darya looked over at the beam. He stood rooted for a few seconds, but her gaze held steady.
Very well, then—he conceded and walked into the blue light.
Darya watched his inworld presence dissolve, reset the controls, and walked into the blue beam herself. Whatever awaited her outworld, it would be good to be back in a real body.
Points to Ponder
Book Club & Study Questions
The Deplosion series is not intended to be just a story. In addition to providing a thrilling read, it is meant to be a vehicle for discussing a variety of deep philosophical, religious, scientific, and social issues. Following are some questions to help stimulate further thought. Additional discussion can be found on the Paul Anlee Facebook page and science and philosophy blog (www.paulanlee.com).
1) When Darya needed to escape the Lysrandia inworld, her acolytes sacrificed three of themselves so she could get away. She left without much argument, seeing the rationality of preserving herself as leader of the rebellion. Compare and contrast human and Cybrid ethical reasoning in similar situations. For example, movies often portray a moment when a hero needs to choose between saving a loved one and a city of thousands or millions. Such choices cause some people great anguish. How would a Cybrid evaluate such a dilemma? Is one approach “better” than the other?
2) Darya is first introduced as if she were human, and only later revealed to be a machine. Does the notion of an electronic brain thinking of itself as a person, with feelings and self-awareness, seem conceivable? Is there an ineffable “something” about being a biological human that cannot be implemented in computational machinery? What does it mean, then, to be human? How much of our bodies or brains can we lose and maintain our humanity? How much can we enhance or replace with synthetic devices?
3) Darya reveals that Alum’s true intention with the Deplosion machinery is to re-create the universe according to His own version of Heaven. His Heaven would be perfect; there would be no uncertainty in it, no struggle, no pain. Why would anyone oppose such a thing?
4) In justifying her decision to hack her fellow Cybrids’ belief systems, Darya says, “Rights are a luxury the universe can’t afford right now, and free will is just an illusion based on complex decision trees with non-controlled inputs and experiences.” Do you believe there is a rational basis for a “rights-based” society? Do you think “free will” is an illusion as she described?
5) Alternus is modeled on the real Earth of the near future; it faces many similar problems to those we face today. Are we smart enough to make good choices for the future of humanity and the planet? Why do you think I made “growth” such a major factor in the discussion? At one point, one of the Davos delegates—a Cybrid—decries the need for humans in the universe, and the need for Cybrids to serve and support them. Do you agree with Darya’s response, and the role of “sloppy evolution” as a factor in favor of the importance of biological beings?
Reality Rebellions - FF
Deplosion Chronologic: Book 5
Paul Anlee
Darian Publishing House
Chatham, Ontario, Canada
“Nevertheless, she persisted.”
― Senator Mitch McConnell
1
Blink and, just like that, ten thousand Angels, a full Wing of Alum’s enforcers, materialized in a 25,000 km wide circle around the Cybrid asteroid station Rafael 116.4.4.
Moments earlier, Lord Mika had been dozens of light years away, field-testing his new battle components and recent upgrades by the maintenance Cybrids. He’d been darting about the asteroid belt of his assigned system, shifting from planetoid to planetoid as fast as he could, and firing a single powerful bolt fr
om his sword each time without stopping to assess its destruction. After annihilating over a hundred of the presumably uninhabited rocks, he retraced his flight path, analyzing the fragments to assure himself the blasts had efficiently obliterated his intended targets.
Then, without warning, he was in a different star system in full alert. It took him a couple of milliseconds to process and adjust. Something must have tripped Alum’s passive detectors—the old mechanical switches—without the higher tech active motion sensors being activated. The pattern matched the footprint of the intruder.
Mika’s Wing activated their quantum decoherence field generators and linked their shift blockers to create an enormous net. Blazing energy emanated from their swords, outshining the twinkle of distant stars. No one and nothing would be shifting out of their grasp this time.
The Angel’s position as leader of the Wing put him just inside the containment field. Though his nearest neighbors over 200 klicks away were imperceptible, his internal projections showed each of their positions and statuses clearly. The trap was set.
Mika gave the command and led the drawing of the net inward. Half the Angels shifted ten thousand kilometers closer to the asteroid, where they established a new inner perimeter. The other half subsequently shifted to just outside this shell and took over, holding the new outermost layer of the net.
The inner group shifted another thousand klicks closer and established a new, concentric shell with only two thousand of their number. The remainder moved closer and established three more shells in the same way. By the time they were done, there were five successively smaller shift-blocking nets and a thousand Angels—the Primary Group of the Wing—inside, ready to chase their quarry.
The maneuver had been executed beautifully. The sensors inside the Cybrid station continued to show the intruder. It was almost effortless. Mika doubted the invader was the false Shard from Gargus 718. That being had been far too competent to be caught off guard so easily. More likely something thrown at us by rogue Aelu.
