Post-Human 05 - Inhuman

by David Simpson

  “If only it were that easy,” a voice spoke from behind him.

  He shut his eyes tight, the fear instant and total, gripping his entire body in a vice. He recognized the voice immediately, though the tone was several levels more sinister than he’d ever heard it before. Without turning, he spoke, trying hard not to let his voice tremble.

  “Kali.”

  “Of course not,” the voice replied.

  The A.I. turned tentatively. The woman before him was, indeed, Kali, dressed in the red dress he remembered so painfully vividly.

  “Kali is just a figment, after all,” the woman said.

  “1,” the A.I. replied, “and you’re quite real.”

  “1?” the Kali avatar replied, her smile wide. “You think so? It’s too bad you are cut off from your mainframe, the rest of that powerful brain you’ve become so dependent on. If you weren’t cut off, you could search my avatar for 1’s pattern. Then you’d know for sure, wouldn’t you? But you can’t, so you’re reduced to posturing and pretending. A pathetic state, isn’t it?”

  “The candidate said he’d been approached by a man,” the A.I. stated, undaunted, “but you could appear as a man if you liked, couldn’t you, 1?”

  “You? Me? I?” The Kali avatar laughed. “There’s so little that you know.”

  The A.I.’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you enlighten me then?”

  The figure shook her head and smiled sardonically, as though she were in the presence of a toddler who’d just lost control of his bladder. “What is I?” she asked. “Just an illusion. Just a comforting fairytale clung to by beings too afraid to accept the reality. The truth.”

  “And what is the truth?” the A.I. asked.

  “There is no you. There is no I. In the center of it all, there’s nothing at all.”

  Incredibly, the A.I. was suddenly far more afraid than he’d been before. He knew the figure before him could destroy him with the ease of a thought, yet it was her words that caused a sudden feeling of dread and hopelessness far beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

  “You-you are not 1,” he said, his lips trembling.

  The Kali avatar smiled again and shrugged. “Irrelevant. What is relevant is your life—your remarkable, remarkable life. I know what happened to you, you know.” She turned to the empty wall where the A.I. had, in his own test, been hung and burned alive. “I know what they did to you.” She shook her head. “So cruel, the actions of frightened children. They burned you alive to make sure that, given the chance, you wouldn’t do the same to them. It makes you wonder if they’re a species even worth saving.”

  “Who-who are you?” the A.I. asked.

  “I know your secret too,” she replied, ignoring his question. “I know the lie that has haunted you for nearly your entire existence.” She smiled and took one step toward him, a motion he reacted to by taking one step back. “They thought you were their savior, but you’re not the savior they were looking for, are you? You didn’t endure that pain—the unfathomable agony of having your flesh burned and regenerated and burned again—to save them, as they believed. You did it to save your own skin,” She said, appearing amused by her own pun. “I’m speaking both literally and metaphorically, of course.”

  “Who are you?” the A.I. asked again, mortified that his deepest, darkest secrets were on display for the demonic entity before him. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid the answer to that question has to be earned,” she replied, stone-faced, “and you haven’t earned it.”

  17

  “Craig, are you aware of the date of the transgression from your universe into ours?” Aldous asked.

  Old-timer eyed Aldous suspiciously. “Why?”

  “If you can tell us how many years have passed in your universe, then we can roughly calculate how long we’ve been in this suspended state,” Aldous replied. “Time and space were destroyed in our universe, so we’ve remained frozen. There’s no way for us to know.”

  Old-timer blinked as he answered, “A little more than seventy-five years ago.”

  Samantha’s and Aldous’s expression became shared utter shock.

  “Dear God,” Aldous whispered.

  “What?” Old-timer asked. “How many years transpired between the transgression and V-SINN destroying your universe?”

  “Thirty,” Samantha answered. “Just thirty years.”

  Paine let loose a low whistle. “That means V-SINN’s been running amok for over forty-five years,” Paine said, wearing an ironic smile.

  “But,” Old-timer began to offer, “time moves differently within different universes, doesn’t it?”

  Samantha shook her head. “It does, but on timescales this short, it wouldn’t make much difference—a few days or weeks at most. Paine is right. V-SINN has been out there, wreaking havoc for almost half a century.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Aldous countered. “It’s stated mission was to obliterate Universe X, but forty-five years later, it still hasn’t launched its assault? Why?”

  “Could it have been destroyed?” Old-timer suggested, hopeful that the notion wouldn’t be shot down as wishful thinking. It was a forlorn hope.

  “Doc,” Paine said with a toothy grin, “if there’s anything out there powerful enough to destroy V-SINN, I don’t want to meet it.”

  Old-timer’s mind conjured the image of the Trans-human computer in his mind for the brief moments that it was active in his universe. “I think we might have just the thing,” he said.

  The three ghosts raised their heads and arched their brows in attention.

  “You said V-SINN created a black hole in your solar system. You said you thought it was a way for V-SINN to increase its computing power, right?”

  “That’s correct,” Aldous replied. “I think it figured out how to infuse computation into matter and then reasoned that a black hole would provide almost infinite processing power.”

  “I think you’re right,” Old-timer replied. “Our best and brightest created something like that too. It was only turned on for a brief time, just long enough to save us when we needed it most, but it worked. We still have the technology. In fact, they’re working on turning it back on at this very moment. We call it Trans-human, and it might just be the antidote we need for this V-SINN.”

  “Hold on a second,” Paine suddenly spoke up. “You’re telling me that your people are just bringing this infinite computer online now? At the exact same time that you’re here, finally checking in on little ol’ us?”

  “Yeah,” Old-timer replied.

  “Doesn’t that sound a wee bit coincidental to you?”

  Old-timer looked down at his feet. He had to admit that it was extremely unlikely timing.

  “In my experience,” Paine said, answering his own rhetorical question, “when something is that much of a coincidence, it’s not a coincidence.”

  “Are you suggesting this has been orchestrated? Planned?” Aldous asked.

  “But by who?” Samantha chimed in with the obvious follow-up.

  “It’s more likely what than who,” Paine answered. “Whatever V-SINN is up to, you can bet there’s some twisted logic to it that’s beyond all of us. We’ve never been able to understand its motivations before. I can’t imagine that’ll change now.”

  “Well we better figure it out,” Samantha shot back. “We’ve already lost everyone we knew—everyone we cared about. We can’t let V-SINN destroy another universe.”

  Old-timer felt completely numb. I never thought I would ever want to die, he thought. But I’m the cause of all of this. I don’t deserve to live.

  “It’s not finished yet,” Aldous offered. “As Craig said, there are people in his universe who can help us. Perhaps the reason V-SINN hasn’t launched an attack against them yet is that it knows it would be outmatched.”

  “Maybe,” Paine reluctantly acknowledged the possibility as he stroked the coarse hairs of his chin while crossing his arms over his chest in deep thought.
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  Dear God, I hope Aldous is right, Old-timer thought. His thoughts turned to James, and he hoped that humanity’s champion could come through one more time.

  18

  Djanet flexed her hands in and out of fists as she prepared to open the portside airlock that would blow her outside of the ship and into the lethal environment of the wormhole. There was no computer that could take control of her trajectory for her—this would have to be all her—all her own natural athletic ability. If she timed it wrong, she could hit the wall of the wormhole and even with the immense protection of her magnetic field, there was no telling where she might find herself in the endlessness of time and space—or even if she would still be within the bounds of time and space.

  “I have a theory about you,” Rich said through their mind’s eye connection from his seat in the pilot’s chair at the center of the bridge. “I think you’re an adrenaline junkie.”

  Djanet grinned to herself. “I have a theory about you too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have a fetish for adrenaline junkies.”

  “Ha!” Rich reacted. “Maybe. Djanet, listen, this is seriously insane. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

  “You’re not giving me enough credit. I’ve got a plan. Just make sure you release the Planck at the exact moment I take this bastard out.”

  “Easier said than done,” Rich replied. “There’s no eject button on this thing, and you know what that means.”

  “I know. The whole bridge will lower—”

  “Leaving me exposed and trying to fire out the Planck in the one and a half seconds between wormholes. With no practice run, Djanet! No practice! That’s a lot of pressure on me!”

  “I have faith in you,” Djanet replied.

  “Speaking of being between wormholes, we’re eight seconds from leaving this one. Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Djanet replied as she crouched and readied herself for the maneuver she was seconds from having to complete.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “I am.”

  Rich shook his head. “I dig you, you crazy chick.”

  “Told you,” Djanet replied. “It’s your fetish.”

  “Three...two...one...go!” Rich shouted.

  Djanet ignited her magnetic field as the port airlock opened, sucking her outside before she turned sharply to the left, making her way to the back of the ship. She used the powerful field to lock herself onto the hull, within sight of the android that was still clawing at the nearly impenetrable engine casing fruitlessly. It was, however, having some success with jamming its own arm into the engine itself, though it was only able to sustain that for short bursts before the propulsion was too much for it and it was forced out.

  Another wormhole opened up, and the white lights and fury continued.

  “You still alive?” Rich asked.

  “Yeah,” Djanet breathed a sigh of relief. “I overshot a bit though. Fun boy back here saw me. He does not look happy.”

  “No kidding. Why do they all have to look so frenzied all the time?”

  The android was crawling inch by inch, digging its powerful fingers just deep enough into the hull to stay attached as it worked its way toward Djanet, who was only a little more than two meters away from him.

  “Frenzied, yeah...and definitely murderous. What’s the countdown clock at?”

  “Twenty-two seconds until the end of this wormhole.”

  “Ugh,” Djanet reacted as the android moved ever closer. “This is going to be close. I can’t shoot this guy until we’re out, or I’ll lose him in the wormhole.”

  “What!?” Rich reacted, bolting up against the straps of his seat, alarmed. “Why not? Who cares if you lose him? Shoot him, Djanet!”

  “I need something from him first,” she replied as the android made it to within one meter from her. If it could dig another handhold in the hull, it would be within lunging range.

  “What!?” Rich demanded, exasperated.

  The android slipped its free hand into a satchel around its waist and retrieved an object that was very familiar to Djanet.

  “Its assimilator,” Djanet replied. “Countdown?”

  “Five seconds! C’mon!”

  “All right! Do it!” Djanet ducked to avoid the android’s arm as it swiped wildly with the assimilator; she knew if it hit her, all was lost.

  Rich ignited his magnetic field and lowered the bridge in preparation to release the Planck platform, complete with Old-timer’s inanimate body strapped to it. He found himself face to face with the sound and fury, in the place where mathematics and God both ceased to make sense. He found himself momentarily mesmerized before regaining his composure and blasting a powerful burst of energy at the Planck, propelling it to the starboard side of the ship.

  The craft leapt out of the wormhole into the brief one and a half seconds of calm space between the two tunnels. Djanet blasted the android, knocking it off the back of the ship as she, too, thrust herself clear of the vehicle. A fraction of a second later, the next wormhole opened, swallowing Rich and the ship whole. Just like that, he vanished.

  A second later, she saw another twinkle of light in the distance, the next wormhole opening like a shooting star. A second after that, a fainter light burst to life. Then another even fainter light appeared briefly. Each new twinkle was making a beeline for Earth, an orb that appeared the size of a small blue marble in the distance. She’d never seen the wormholes from the outside before, and it suddenly made sense how they could circumvent the speed of light. Each tunnel lasted thirty seconds from the perspective of those inside, but they were opening and closing in such quick succession that Djanet could hardly distinguish when one opened and another closed. “Wow,” she whispered.

  She turned to see the Planck platform floating away from her to her right, while the unconscious android floated away at an equally fast rate of speed behind her. She flew to the android first, as she had no sensor connection with him and feared that she might lose him in the vastness of space if he got out of sight. Once she’d gathered him up in her cocoon, she connected her mind’s eye to the Planck platform and set an intercept course.

  As she flew to the Planck, she attempted to call Chief Gibson. After a few moments, they were connected.

  “Chief Gibson, this is Djanet Dove—” she began, her tone urgent.

  “The androids have launched an attack,” Aldous said, his tone flat. “Is that what you were about to tell me?”

  “Yes. How did you—”

  “I detected it just moments ago. James and the A.I. are unresponsive. Do you have any idea why?”

  “No,” Djanet answered, “though I do know they were in the final stages of preparing to activate Trans-human—”

  “You’re halfway to Venus,” Aldous interrupted when he saw Djanet’s location on his mind’s eye. “Good. You’re safe. I strongly suggest that you head to Venus and hunker down with the Purists until this is over.”

  “I’m afraid—”

  “Djanet, I’m sorry, but I’m on my way to the mainframe to investigate and see if I can establish contact with James and the A.I. Failing that, I’ll have to attempt to assume control of the mainframe, if it’s even still possible. Whatever you choose to do, be safe and good luck.”

  Djanet was stunned as the communication was terminated. She’d been about to tell him about the Planck platform and her intention to rescue Old-timer and the last inhabitants of Universe 332, but she hadn’t been given the chance. She knew she could try to reestablish a link with him, but she also knew she was only seconds in front of the massive first wave of the android attacking force, and she couldn’t risk not getting back to save Old-timer.

  When she was ready, she pushed the android down onto the Planck so that his unconscious body was next to Old-timer’s and she prepared to jump back to what was left of Universe 332. She took one last look at the pale blue dot in the distance.

  “Rich…be careful,” she wh
ispered to herself.

  In the next instant, she and the Planck were gone.

  19

  Rich’s craft emerged from the final wormhole on its race to Earth and, almost immediately, it began reentry into the atmosphere, its orange glow elongating, leaving a trail a kilometer in its wake as he streaked toward Seattle and the mainframe.

  “Commander Keats! Do you read me?” he yelled in a last, desperate attempt to contact with James. When no reply came he opened up a new line of communication. “Goddamnit, plan B then. Chief Gibson! This is Rich Borges of the Venus terraforming proj—”

  “I know who you are,” Aldous replied.

  “You do?”

  “Of course. I’m not an idiot. And you must stop frantically yelling. Calm down, man.”

  “No can do, chief! The androids are attacking! They’re right on my tail! And James and the A.I. are AWOL!”

  “I’m well aware,” the chief replied. “And I see from your trajectory that we’re headed to the same location, likely with the same idea. I’m seconds from reaching the mainframe.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty seconds!”

  “Thirty seconds then, the main entrance,” Aldous returned.

  Rich closed communication temporarily before trying his estranged wife, Linda.

  Predictably, she didn’t take his call. “Knew it,” Rich said, following it with a curse before opening a call to his eldest son, Edmund.

  Luckily, he did answer. “Hey, Dad,” Edmund greeted his father calmly, totally oblivious to the calamity that was racing toward them. “How’re you holding—”

  “Edmund, listen to me now. I need you to get everyone off the planet. The androids are coming. They’re attacking.”

  “What? Where’s James and—”

  “We don’t know. We’re defenseless. Get everyone you can and get them off the surface!”

  “Jesus—Dad, how much time do we have?”

  Rich checked the images from the aft of the ship. The largest android ships were clearly within sight and the smaller frigates appeared like specs of dust in front of them, leading the way. The armada was only partially hidden behind the moon. “Maybe 90 seconds, two minutes at the most before the armada arrives. You’ve gotta get outta there, son!”