by Dan Glover
He breathed in short brutal gasps. His lungs were filled with tiny particles of silica and though he had attempted for days to cough them up, they only seemed to lodge deeper. A shooting pain just below his shoulder blades told him that something was seriously wrong though he hadn’t been physically injured in the attack.
The dragon that grabbed him up in its talons and flew high into the air had dropped him at the last instant as if summoned on a more important matter. The jet piloted by Pete must have been spotted homing in on the nanobot nest at the last instance.
As he fell, Maon had a few seconds to wonder what it would feel like: hitting the ground at two hundred kilometers an hour. Curiously, the living sand had formed a cradle to soften the impact.
It was obvious the nanobots had other plans for him. He couldn’t count on dying. As he lay ensnared in the sand, struggling to free himself from the tentacles that held him so softly and yet so firmly, he realized his entire body was being coated with a fine metallic shell.
When he opened his mouth to call out for help a billion particles swirled deep into his lungs to finish on the inside what the outside nanobots had begun. Remembering the stories of Pete and how he had been transformed into a living robot, Maon wished he had died that long ago day when instead he had succeeded in saving his own life as well as that of his family.
He didn’t want to perish like this, alone and afraid. To become one with the metal seemed like a fate worse than any death. No one would come looking for him for they would assume he had died along with the others.
"Please don’t go with Pete on this trip of his. It will only lead to your death, my precious Maon. I see it."
"I don’t want to go back to old America, sweet Sileas. But I need to go. Without me, Pete doesn’t stand a chance."
He had argued with his wife the night before they left on their trip here. She accused him of caring more about Pete than about her. He wanted to refuse the man's plea, to tell him no. But Alpin was missing.
If Pete was willing to risk his life for Alpin, then he had to go with the man. Maon knew he would never forgive himself if something happened to either man in his absence, especially after Pete came to him begging for help.
"I think he took the jet and flew to old America, Mr. Maon. I promised Karen I wouldn’t go, but I'll never be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try to mount a rescue. The thing is, I'll get sick from Lake Syndrome and die before I even reach the other side of the Atlantic. I need someone like you to accompany me."
If it had been anyone but Alpin, Maon would have rebuffed Pete's attempts at luring him away from the Isle of Skye. He was happy there. He and Sileas were more deeply in love than ever even though they'd been together for over two hundred years.
Other couples drifted apart as the years lengthened. Even Nate and Lily had become sundered from one another. Alpin and Ena—even though it was clear their love was still strong—had taken to living separate lives away from one another more often than not.
He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Sileas even for a single day. He hated Pete for approaching him with plans of flying away that very afternoon. He felt like throttling the man and dumping his body down the old abandoned well on the estate that would be easy enough to unseal and then reseal after the deed was done.
No one would blame him.
He couldn’t abandon his son like that, however. And knowing Pete—who wasn’t even related to Alpin—was ready to give his life in hopes of rescuing him only caused guilt to flourish.
"If all goes well we'll be back by tomorrow, lovely Sileas."
"He's my son too, Maon. But he's a man now. He is responsible for his own actions. When are you going to let him go?"
She was right. Alpin had always been headstrong. Maon thought of how their son refused to travel to old America with them on the ill-fated trip aboard the Liberty. Though he knew the trip would have ended the same way—in disaster—Maon always thought how another male aboard might well have made a critical difference when the hurricane trapped them within its eye.
He decided that night to tell Pete that he had changed his mind. Perhaps someone else would volunteer to go with him, or better yet, Pete would reconsider his plan. Even if they did make a flight to old America, they were unlikely to find anywhere to land, much less locate fuel for the return trip. They'd be trapped there.
"You're right, my darling Sileas. There is no reason for us go. I'll stay here with you."
"No you won't. I see it now, Maon. You'll go, and you'll die. I love you dearly, husband, but you're a fool. We have eternity in the palm of our hands and you're going to throw it away."
Sileas was right, as always. When he went to tell Pete that he had changed his mind about going with him, Maon couldn’t find his voice. Pete too seemed full of doubt, as if searching for one single reason not to go. Silently, the two of them climbed aboard the jet and rocketed off into the sky.
As his eyes grew dim her bitter words echoed in his mind. He would never see his wife again. The odds of finding his way to old New York City were too steep to consider, and even if someone came looking for him, how could they spot a solitary man walking in such a vast desert?
Sleep... he needed some sleep and then perhaps tomorrow would be brighter.
Chapter 61—Creation
Kirk's blood was on his hands.
In his isolated anger Micah had rewritten the software for his nanobots, negating the safety net he'd built into them. As the metallic rage took hold of his mind, the hate for human beings grew utterly out of proportion to any harm they had done him. As a consequence he removed the three protocols he had originally used, rules based on those invented by the old science fiction writer Isaac Asimov:
Nanobots may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. Nanobots must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. Nanobots must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
By replacing the first two rules with the third, he had effectively ordered his nanobots to insure their own survival over that of anyone or anything. They were given freedom to conquer and kill every form of life, including human beings.
He mistakenly assumed they would not attack or alter him since he was their creator. But now, he realized they used him just as they incorporated anything else they came into contact with. The only thing that mattered to the nanobots was their survival.
Even though Karen and Lily had forgiven him, he couldn’t shake the guilt of knowing his actions had led directly to the death of another. He didn’t know Kirk. Yet standing there helpless while the horrors of his creation overwhelmed the man to the point where he was totally dependent upon them made Micah realize what a foul deed he had perpetrated by creating the nanobots.
Everyone warned him. His professors insisted upon such strict controls that Micah grew to detest the old meddling men. Who was he to be looked after like a child? He was a genius. His IQ measured higher than anyone ever admitted to Cornell University.
His ideas would change the world and his so-called superiors were jealous. No one would ever have to die again. Sickness and disease would become relics of the past. A golden age was dawning for humanity and these little men were frightened. They would become redundant in their ignorance and they knew it.
He had never known of anyone sacrificing themselves for another, much less witnessed it first-hand. But there Kirk was, pushing Nate out of harm's way to absorb the full force of the blow meant for his friend.
Micah assumed—wrongly—that his tiny machines would merely seek to rewrite Kirk's mitochondrial RNA, something that could be easily enough reversed. That's what they'd been programmed to do. But over the last three centuries they had evolved a will of their own.
He knew the nanobots would immediately set about incorporating Kirk's biological presence into their own culture. Given time, he would become a
hybrid of metal and flesh. But then disaster struck.
When the nest was destroyed it rendered every nanobot instantaneously inert. The miniature machines had only half-finished the work on Kirk. Without their life-sustaining efforts, his body died encased inside lungs of steel. Others had perished as well, all to bring an end to the reign of horror he had precipitated while trying to save the world.
He wished Karen had been harsher with him. He deserved punishment for his crimes. In the old world he would have been held accountable for his actions. Here, however, the Ladies sought to cultivate love instead of justice.
"I don't belong here, Lady Lily. I should leave."
"But darling Micah... if you go you'll grow sick and die. Stay with us."
"I feel so guilty about what I have done. I think about the people who died in order to save you. If you hadn’t been brought to old America by my nanobots they would still be alive."
"I was as responsible for that as you, sweet Micah. I called your dragons to carry me off. I was tired of living and scared of dying. I was diminishing. In a few months I would have gone into the sea and slept that long sleep of death. You saved my life."
Micah hadn’t counted on Lily using his miniature machines to heal herself. He was so accustomed to his nanobots rendering any biological organism inert that he forgot the power Lady Lily held.
"Tell me how it is that you are still be alive, Karen."
When he saw her standing there at Cornell University, he thought he might be hallucinating. She had changed somehow—become more attractive and wholesome—but he still recognized her instantly.
"I met someone who can reverse the aging process by just being around us, Micah. Her name is Lily. She is here. Would you like to meet her?"
In his arrogance he had refused. He thought Karen was lying to cover the fact that she had somehow stumbled upon the secret of immortality. Yet as he discovered, she was telling him the truth. It was he who had been the dimwitted unbeliever.
Now he had another chance at setting things to right... if only he could assure everyone that his creations were indeed inert. Then again, what did they know? They would doubtlessly believe whatever he told him and hold him faultless.
Micah had never met a group of intelligent beings like the ones living in the south of old France. None of them seemed to anticipate that any harm could come to them. They lived in a paradise of sunshine and Mediterranean breezes lazing their days away while growing grapes which they fermented into strong wine.
They had no real leaders. Unlike the days of old when human beings elected people to represent them in enormous governmental bodies that infiltrated into all facets of life, in Toulon everyone did as they liked.
Some were artists while others worked for the pleasure it afforded them farming the vast vineyards, harvesting their crops, and bottling the wine fermented in oak casks stored in underground caves that abounded in the region.
Micah didn’t know how to fit into the social structure in old Europe. Even as a boy he had never felt a part of all the activity that blossomed around him like so many weeds choking out the brilliance of the few flowers that grew. His vast intellect set him apart from everyone... all save Karen.
Seeing her sick and near death had shocked Micah into realizing how much he loved the woman. He knew she was the wife of Pete, however, and it galled him to think how he had saved the man's life. Rather than letting well enough alone, Micah had sought to polish his vanity by saving those who had no gratitude anyway.
"There are many girls of the People here, Micah... if you have a desire to marry one of them I am sure you'll be able to find any number of girls amiable to your company. If you wish I can introduce you to them at the next dance."
"Thank you, Lady Lily... I'll consider it."
He didn’t need to mull it over but neither did he want to turn down Lily's offer outright. It might cause consternation if she knew he had no intentions of fitting into their little village.
Chapter 62—Endurance
Lady Lily had been right.
Centuries ago she had counseled him how Kirk might one day render a service unlooked for. At the time, the man was an idiot. He had just collaborated with Marilyn to isolate the Ladies and take their place as the De facto leaders of Orchardton Hall.
The coup had failed but only because a two year old child had crawled through a stiflingly hot air shaft to free his parents from the prison cell where they'd all been locked away to die of suffocation.
He had made up his mind to vote for Kirk's exile. Once away from the Ladies, the man would grow sick and die within hours. They all knew it. And yet Nate deemed his transgressions to be of such magnitude that he must pay with his life.
He assumed Lily was of the same opinion until they talked the night before about Kirk and his upcoming trial.
"The man is admitting his guilt, my lovely Nate. All that remains is to pronounce a sentence fitting the crime. Have you made up your mind how to vote?"
"He should be exiled, my sweet Lily. We can never trust him again."
"He'll die if we force him into leaving Orchardton Hall."
Her words stopped him.
He knew instinctively that Kirk would die once away from the presence of the Ladies but hearing it put into words solidified that notion to the point of changing his mind. The next day when it came time to vote, Nate voted to allow Kirk to stay. Along with Lily's vote, and Lauren's and Natalia's, Kirk's life had been spared.
It all seemed for naught, however. Instead of taking advantage of his new-found lease on life, the man seemed to delve even deeper into hedonism. He openly flaunted the fact that he was the last living man on earth and the girls of the People flocked to him, at least when he was around.
Kirk took to leaving the estate to wander in the rotting villages dotting the surrounding countryside, staying away just long enough that he began exhibiting signs of Lake Syndrome. He seemed to make a game out of testing the limits of human endurance away from the Ladies.
Nate ignored Kirk. Even when the man spoke right to his face, he walked away as if he didn’t hear him. He saw Kirk as a waste of time even if as Lily assured him it grew in abundance at Orchardton Hall.
Gradually, however, and almost imperceptibly, Kirk changed... or maybe he changed. Nate could never be sure. One night he had seen a fire burning on the beach. Approaching it, Nate saw Kirk huddled close to the flames to chase away the clammy Scottish night. Settling on his haunches next to the fire he had spoken before he even realized it.
"What are you doing out here all alone, Kirk?"
Kirk looked startled, as if surprised to learn that Nate could actually speak.
"I like it out here, Mr. Nate. I like listening to the waves and watching the stars come out."
Nate was struck at his friendliness and his respect. Even though he had ignored the man for decades, Kirk struck up a conversation with him like they were companions of old. They had spent the night there on the beach talking and laughing.
The next day Nate couldn’t remember what they'd talked about or why it had been so enjoyable to sit out there with Kirk, but he found himself watching for the campfire, waiting to go out there again. It became a nightly ritual for them.
Lily disapproved of their friendship... not outright, but she would often reflect on what an odd couple Nate and Kirk made. She talked of how he had become neglectful of his work, of his duties, and even of his wife.
He didn’t want to admit to Lily that he had trouble remembering things. Ever since that day he'd flown over the beach in old France where they soon found Kāne he'd been having problems keeping his thoughts clear and focused.
Lily knew him implicitly, however.
Kirk had risked his life to go with them on the trip to old America. There was nothing in it for him. He had gone simply on account of being asked to go. Lily had seen how close Nate had become with the man and used him to lure her husband into going on a trip he had no desire to take.
They were right: Kāne's presence was detrimental to his health. Once on the open sea his mental acuity returned. It was as if he was waking up from a long disjointed dream. Kirk had been made aware of the situation. Coming to him, he had expressed doubts on whether their friendship would continue.
"Lady Lily told me what was happening to you, Mr. Nate. I guess I must have known something wasn’t right. But I enjoyed our talks together so much I made believe you were genuinely interested in being my friend. I understand if you don’t want to talk any more. I know I must bore you."
"I'm honored by our friendship, Kirk."
He remembered how his friend's face had lighted up.
Now, Kirk was dead. It was nearly impossible to fathom... one moment they were running for the safety of an open doorway where a man he recognized as Micah stood beckoning to them and the next second he had found himself sprawled out facedown on the floor.
Getting to his feet and looking back, he saw Kirk was nothing but a swarm of sand. By the time he was able to pull his friend inside, the nanobots had already hardened into a shell around Kirk's body.
"Help me get these things off of him, Micah."
"I can't... once they've begun swarming nothing can stop them. Perhaps if I was still of the collective I might be able to ward them off but I doubt it."
"Is that what's happening? Is he being assimilated into some sort of nightmarish existence like Pete was?"
"I'm afraid so."
Looking at him Nate marveled at how Micah had been transformed into a man again, a boy, really. Nate assumed it must have been Lily's doing as according to Karen the Lady's close proximity had rendered him human again before.
"So there's nothing we can do?"
"We have to get him to Lily... if we follow this tunnel we'll end up in the subbasement of Cornell University. Let's make a stretcher so we can carry him more easily."
