Newton's Ark (The Emulation Trilogy)

by D. A. Hill

“I can’t do that,” she insisted. “I don’t want to talk to an EM.” Just the thought if it sent a chill down her spine.

  “End of discussion then,” Manny replied.

  Regina hesitated. Her father’s tone indicated that he would not be swayed. “Hold on,” she said mentally kicking herself for being a coward. If that was what she needed to do to fix this, that was what she needed to do and so she would damn well do it. “Alright, if you insist. Graham can you bring it back?”

  Blake responded by tapping his pad, causing Emmanuel to reappear.

  “We’ll leave you alone then,” Manny said, signaling to Cyrus and Graham that they should leave.

  —o—

  “I’m sorry I frightened you before, Gina,” Emmanuel said.

  Regina’s natural inclination was to reassure her father that everything was OK. But this was not her father, no matter how much it looked and sounded like him. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you’re not my father.”

  “I remember you saying something like that to me once before,” he replied calmly, trying not to show the hurt her words caused him.

  “You do? When?” She could not recall any such thing.

  “I do. A long time ago. A lifetime ago actually—I was a different man back then. You were six and your mother, bless her soul, was in her final days. I was trying to explain to you that I would take care of you after your mother was gone.”

  Regina remembered now. The memory of losing her mother came back to her in a rush, like a wave of grief washing over her. She remembered the fear of being all alone in the world, of being without the only person she had ever loved. And she remembered a man she barely knew telling her that it would be alright, and not believing at the time that it was possible. But she had been wrong and he had been right; he had cared for her and loved her ever since.

  Emmanuel could see her pain. “I miss her too,” he said. “More than you can imagine.” He did not mean to bring back painful memories for his daughter. Better to move on. “What is it you want Gina?” he asked gently.

  “I want to switch you off,” she replied firmly, trying to reassure herself that she meant it. “My father—my real father—said he and Cyrus would only do it if you agreed.”

  Emmanuel could see how much this situation was distressing the daughter he loved so much. When he had asked to live he had not considered how it would affect her. “If that’s what you think is best then you can tell them I agree.”

  “Do you really mean that?” she asked surprised. “The others said you asked not to be turned off. That you didn’t want to die.”

  “I did say that. It’s true. I don’t want to die.”

  “Then why would you agree now to being switched off?” she asked, confused by his change of heart.

  “There are worse things in this life than dying my darling,” he replied, tears filling his eyes. “Like hurting the people you love. Gina, I love you. I’ve loved you from the very first time I saw you and I knew you were mine. I’d give anything to ensure your happiness. Even my life.”

  —o—

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  Regina sat quietly contemplating her discussion with Emmanuel as she waited for the others to come back. She had done what her father had asked and had the result she wanted. Yet her mind was still in turmoil.

  Emmanuel did the same. He had said all he was going to say on the matter.

  “What did you decide?” Manny asked anxiously when he and Cyrus returned.

  “He said yes,” Regina replied.

  “Is that true?” Manny asked Emmanuel, surprised that his virtual self had agreed, and by the hint of sadness in Regina’s voice.

  Emmanuel simply nodded his head.

  Cyrus was shocked and horrified. Shocked that Emmanuel had agreed and horrified that he would now have to help Regina Lopez terminate his program. Kill his friend. Her father. He was not sure he could do it. No, he was sure. Sure that he could not. “I won’t do it,” he said.

  “You have to Cyrus,” Manny said. He felt sick at the thought of what they were about to do, but did not see how he could stop it now. “Regina did as we asked her to do and Emmanuel has agreed. It’s not up to us any more.”

  “She did as you asked her,” Cyrus replied angrily. “Nobody asked me how I feel about this. I refuse to have any part in this,” he added as he stormed out.

  Regina saw that Manny was about to go after him. “Dad, that won’t be necessary,” was all she said. She had not quite sorted out in her mind the difference between Emmanuel and Manny, but she could see the pain she was causing her father and Cyrus was real. And she could not ignore that fact that Emmanuel was willing to sacrifice his life, at least what he clearly thought of as his life, for her happiness. She did not know what the future would hold for Emmanuel, but she did know she could not just switch him off.

  —o—

  James Newton stood looking expectantly out over the rolling plains of eastern Colorado. He pulled his coat tight around him to keep out the bitterly cold wind blowing in from Canada across the plains of Wyoming. He watched the dark dot he had first spotted on the northern horizon grow larger. He guessed that Air Force One had landed at Ellsworth Air Force Base outside Rapid City where the President would have transferred to Marine One. His ears confirmed the approaching object was a helicopter before his eyes did.

  It was an impressively noisy beast he thought as a very large helicopter slowed its forward motion and began its deafening vertical descent. He crouched to brace himself against the downdraft and closed his eyes to the swirling storm of snow it kicked up. The tail wheel touched the ground first, followed by the forward wheels gently lowering to the ground, as if this monstrous machine was kneeling in prayer.

  James Newton waited to hear the rotor slow before opening his eyes. Through the settling snow he watched the President emerge from the aircraft in the wake of several intimidating men and women in dark overcoats, obviously the President’s Secret Service detail.

  To Newton’s surprise the President was followed from the aircraft by a woman he recognized as the First Lady. Even more surprising, she had her arms around the shoulders of two children. James Newton recognized them as the President’s son and daughter. He had no idea what the hell this was about—he had only received fifteen minutes’ notice of the President’s impending arrival, with no explanation given for the sudden visit—and there had certainly been no mention of Carlson bringing his wife and kids along. He figured he was about to find out soon enough though; whatever it was he was sure it was more than just a joy ride.

  “Mr. President, please,” he said as he guided the President and his party to the building that sat atop the launch facility. When they entered the Secret Service agents remained outside, each taking a post with a clear field of view outwards, following their training and quickly establishing a secure perimeter around the first family.

  James Newton admired their efficiency and dedication—these men and women who really were trained to take a bullet for the President—but he wondered what threat they imagined they were guarding against out here in the middle of nowhere, a place where you had a clear view to the far horizon in every direction and where there was really nothing to see but endless fields of grass, bent over by the weight of the accumulated snow, and the occasional herd of deer looking for something to eat.

  —o—

  “James, I believe you know the First Lady.” As he greeted Mrs. Carlson, James Newton noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. She had obviously been crying, but her makeup had been reapplied. She had literally put on a brave face. “And these are our children, Eric and Elizabeth. Children, say hello to Mr. Newton.”

  The children mumbled a shy hello as they clung to their mother.

  “Mr. President, I’m sure you’ve heard about Major Regina Lopez from Secretary Branston. Whilst not busy spying on me, she has been doing an excellent job as my Chief of Security.”

  “It’s an honor to meet y
ou sir,” she said snapping off a smart salute, but only after giving Newton a sharp look that he knew said knock it off with the spying thing. As far as she was concerned she had more than proven her loyalty when she chose to protect Cyrus and Jenny from the FBI.

  “At ease Major. I’ve heard good things about you from both sides, which is quite an achievement.”

  Of course Branston would not have told the President that he had cut her loose. Branston had nothing to gain from that. It would only have served to make him look bad, not something that any politician was big on. “Thank you sir.”

  “James, is there somewhere we can talk privately?” the President asked. He was anxious to get started. This was going to be hard enough. He saw no point in dragging it out and making it more painful than it had to be.

  “Of course Mr. President. Major, would you mind taking the First Lady and the children to the recreation room so the President and I can talk?”

  —o—

  It had been a month since they arrived at the ranch. Tyra Martin had tried to follow her orders, she really had. Maximize food production. She had done her best considering she did not know the first thing about ranching. All she could do was follow the lead of the ranch hands, Clayton, who must have been seventy if he was a day, and his son Danny whom she guessed was about forty.

  Make sure the workers worked. That was not a problem. Clayton and Danny had a work ethic that would put the most gung-ho Marines to shame. Her team helped out where they could. AJ maintaining the farm machinery—he had been a mechanic before joining up—and her and Hawk patrolling the ranch to keep poachers at bay. That was not much fun in the middle of the Montana winter, especially at night, but it needed to be done and it felt good to be useful. Even Angela helped out where she could around the house, cooking and cleaning, at least as well as an eleven year old child could. Fortunately she had not asked about returning to her family. Tyra did not want to have to deal with that dilemma.

  In exchange for the mandated food rations, no more, no less. That was the problem. They simply could not function on starvation rations, none of them, but especially Clayton and Danny who were doing hard physical labor all day, every day. They had not complained, but she could see them getting thinner and weaker. And Angela was not even supposed to be here, so they were stretching their rations to feed her as well. All while they had plenty of food wandering around out there. It was not right. It the brass were expecting her to work these men to death, like they were nothing more than slaves, they had asked the wrong woman.

  —o—

  “Mr. President, we’re obviously honored by your visit, but if you don’t mind me being blunt, I’m wondering why you and your family are here,” James Newton said as soon as they were alone.

  “James, my advisors tell me that our chances of success are now less than ten percent. I think they’re being optimistic. Things settled down for a while after I announced the lottery and we put down the mutiny in South Carolina, but it’s all just fingers in the dyke. The March on the Arks set us back at least two months and who knows what will go wrong next. We’ll be lucky if we last another month before the country descends into complete anarchy.”

  “Unfortunately I have to agree with you on that sir,” Newton replied. After what could only be described as civil war in South Carolina and the Granby massacre, what other conclusion could be reached? For now the rest of the country was quiet, but dissent could only be kept under control by diverting ever more resources away from growing food and preparing the arks. Whilst active resistance may have stopped, passive resistance was growing. Many people were simply refusing to work, knowing that the fruits of their labor would go to keep others alive while they were allowed to perish. You could shoot them but that did not exactly solve the problem—dead people did not grow much food or get the arks built. Worse yet, growing numbers of people were taking their own lives, whole families in many cases. “We’re already working to accelerate our launch schedule as much as we can on the assumption that we do not have much more time Mr. President.”

  “James please call me Paul. You knew me before I was President, before I was even a senator, back when I was just Paul Carlson. I’m not here as the President. I’m here as the man you knew back then, just Paul Carlson, a husband and a father.”

  “Of course. Paul it is. So how can I help?”

  “Gloria and I have accepted our fate, we’ve made our peace with God and we’re ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with the American people to face whatever fate may come. I have so much blood on my hands now that an honorable death is my only possible chance of redemption. But our children...” His voice began to break. He paused to compose himself before continuing. “Our children are so young. They haven’t had a life yet. And so innocent. They don’t deserve to suffer for the sins of their father. I’m asking you to save my children. Please James, I’m begging you.”

  Newton was shocked. The number of people who understood what Newton’s Ark really was and still wanted to be a part of it, well he could literally count them on his fingers; himself, Cyrus Jones, Jenny Ryan, Graham Blake, his nephew Colin McKay and Manny Smith—if he could convince his daughter to come along. But so far Regina Lopez could not bring herself to do it, even though they had all tried hard to convince her and her father had literally begged her. He was confident that Johannson would come around and maybe Dr. Lee but that made ten at best. Ten out of more than one hundred people who had been presented with the option to join them but could not get their heads around the idea of living as an EM. Many of them educated and rational, scientists like Dr Ivanov. And people he loved like his sister Mary. He hoped they were simply in denial about the world coming to an end and would change their minds when that reality became impossible to resist. If it was not too late by then.

  “You do know what this means?” Newton asked. Of course the President did. James had explained it to him personally. “Paul, are you really ready to make that choice?”

  “I am.”

  “Are you sure? Really sure?”

  “James, twenty years from now, when Elizabeth is a grown woman, will she still inhabit the same body?”

  “That is a very difficult question to answer Paul, at least without getting into a long metaphysical discussion. Since a short answer is more appropriate, I’d have to answer yes and no.”

  “Agreed. But if I ask you will she still be the same person, will she still be Elizabeth Carlson, your answer would be unequivocally yes wouldn’t it?”

  “Of course, at least in terms of what matters,” Newton answered. “Without doubt.”

  “Even if she only lives inside your computer?”

  What could James Newton say in response to that? Carlson was serving his own arguments right back to him. So he changed the subject. “And how does the First Lady feel about this, about her children becoming EMs?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  Newton shook his head. “Paul, you can’t make that decision by yourself.”

  “James, I have to. This is the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do, abandoning our children in order to save them. It’s breaking Gloria’s heart to leave them here, but she can live with that if she knows her children will survive. That’s all she wants to know and all she needs to know.”

  “But Paul, you can’t not tell her. It just isn’t right.”

  “James, if you insist on telling her I can’t stop you, but let me tell you what will happen if you do. I’ve known and loved this woman longer than I care to remember and I know that she will reject the idea outright. And then she’ll go home and she’ll think about it some more and eventually she’ll change her mind, but not before it’s too late. Once she realizes that, she will go to her grave hating herself and hating me for not doing everything possible to save them. I can’t do that to her. Can you?”

  —o—

  Gloria Carlson handed the girl to Regina Lopez but did not immediately release her grip. “Mommy has to go now,” she whispered to the
child as she gently kissed her, the tears rolling down both their cheeks. The First Lady looked at Regina with eyes filled with more pain than she had ever seen, a pain much deeper and searing than even the worst physical pain Lopez had seen in combat. “Please take care of my daughter, Major,” the distraught mother pleaded as she released the girl and turned away.

  “I promise.” Regina Lopez held the girl tight. She had never thought of herself as maternal. She had never felt any of the urgings other women felt to be a mother and she tried to have as little contact as possible with anyone not old enough to hold a gun and go to war. But if there was one thing Regina Lopez believed in it was duty and responsibility, a calling she had answered through her devotion to the military and the nation it defended. That mission had come to an end when she defied the authority of her superiors and her country by protecting Cyrus and his sister and this program. Now a new mission had been presented to her—to take care of four year old Elizabeth Carlson.

  She did not ask for this responsibility but she knew life did not work that way. Duty called when it was good and ready, and you either answered the call or not. The First Lady had asked her, Regina Lopez, to take care of the girl, and she had promised to do so. Regina knew that if she did not keep that promise she would forever regret it, that this was one of those moments of truth when you discovered if you were truly made of the right stuff. At that moment she vowed that if it was the last thing she did she would love and protect this small, frail, frightened creature clinging to her like a drowning man clings to a floating object.

  Standing between Regina Lopez and James Newton, ten year old Eric Carlson watched as his parents walked quickly across the field towards the helicopter. They wanted desperately to look back, to see their children one last time, but the first couple fixed their gaze on their destination and kept walking for fear they would change their minds.

  Eric did not cry as he watched the helicopter lift into the sky, quickly grow small and disappear, carrying his parents away forever. “Why do my parents have to leave?” was all he said.