The Farthest City

by Daniel P Swenson

  The sound of another door being wrenched off its hinges reached them. The howls increased in volume, growing louder and more frantic. Kellen resisted the urge to run. As if we have anywhere to run to.

  “They’re coming,” Chronicler said.

  Something struck the third door, deforming it inward. A blade-like limb tore through the metal and shattered the lock. The spider form pushed its way inside. Kellen’s hopes dwindled. Not now. Not when we’re so close. The spider advanced into the ring, hacking and slashing the chines in its path. Kellen’s legs felt like molasses, but he stepped in the spider’s way. It regarded him with its cluster of red-lit sensors, then leapt forward to attack. Expecting this, Kellen ducked under the spider’s downcut. Using his one arm to ward off its blows, he leaned in to push the spider back. But it was no good. With just one arm, he could only keep one of its limbs away. The other sword-arm couldn’t cut him that close in, but it bashed his head and shoulders from behind. Kellen’s feet began to slide out from under him, and the spider bowled him over. It tried to walk over him toward the console, but Kellen grasped one of its hind limbs and held on despite the spider’s attempts to shake him off. It turned and raised one if its sword-arms, but something jerked it back the way it had come.

  Izmit clutched the spider’s rearmost legs and pulled it partway out of the ring. The spider’s free limbs scrabbled against the smooth metal floor as it lost ground. The magnetic pull intensified, drawing Kellen flush with the floor. From that vantage point, he saw Izmit’s face set, determined, even as the spider clove him almost in half.

  “Izmit!” Kellen shouted. We only just got you back.

  Izmit steadied himself by grasping the spider’s carapace with one hand and plunged his other arm into its sensor cluster.

  The gate spun furiously overhead, becoming a blur. Kellen struggled to keep Izmit in view, but found he could no longer move at all. Vision became irrelevant.

  Light.

  #

  Kellen woke to the familiar feeling of heat and disorientation. Unlike the first fab beneath the city, this one was a circular room full of soothing light. Prostrate somes littered the floor. Everyone began to stir. Kellen got to his feet. He spotted Abby and Chronicler. Most of the Tunnel Town chines had been transmitted. He flexed his restored arm. The fab had repaired Abby as well. Her machine arm was gone, replaced with a perfect copy of the one she’d removed. Even their old clothes had been renewed.

  An infectious pop and crackle of almost musical tones filled the room—the chines cheering and congratulating one another. Kellen had never seen so much happiness expressed by chines. The joy gradually gave way as they tallied up those left behind. Kellen made his way out of the crowd to the edge of the ring.

  Only part of the spider had been transmitted, as if its some had been sheared in half along the ring’s edge. Izmit lay atop the spider, his torso split shoulder to hip, one arm still buried in the spider’s shattered head. Kellen knelt by Izmit’s lifeless some and pulled his friend onto the floor. A torrent of loss widened into an uncrossable ocean of could-have-beens and if-onlys.

  Abby squeezed his shoulder. He looked up at her and saw his anguish mirrored in her face. Where words had failed him when Izmit still lived, they came rushing to his lips now, all the things he would never be able to say.

  The fab door slid open, revealing a wide hall. Unfamiliar chines, citizens of the city, moved past the door in either direction, seemingly unaware anything out of the ordinary had transpired. A few gazed in curiously as they passed by.

  Kellen stood. An unbearable weight bowed his shoulders.

  “We must go,” Chronicler said. “The Precautionists will have detected an unauthorized fabrication. They’ll be here soon.”

  “All of us?” Abby asked.

  “There are too many,” Chronicler replied as the other chines listened.

  “We can’t abandon them now,” Kellen said. “They’ll be captured, sent back.”

  “Do not worry, Kellen,” Mediator said. “I can take anyone who needs shelter. My line will provide for them until they are ready to depart.”

  Chronicler turned to watch the passing citizens. “We’ve got to leave now.”

  “Micro, where will you go?” Kellen asked. “Do you want to come with us?”

  “I will find making family,” Micro said.

  Kellen remembered their conversation on that subject so long ago. He would miss the little chine. “Goodbye, Micro. Goodbye, Mediator, and all the rest of you.”

  Abby said her goodbyes. She seemed caught between laughter and tears.

  They all did. Chines did cry. You just couldn’t see it.

  As before, he and Abby drew attention from passersby as they followed Chronicler. Emerging onto a major thoroughfare, Kellen felt disoriented. The furious activity in the city was a jarring transition from the stark emptiness of Iron53.

  They boarded a ground transport that lurched forward into the mass of traffic, rolling on at angles and speeds Kellen would once have cringed at when he was flesh and blood. They plunged down into the city below, docked with a train, and sped off at even greater speeds, always farther down. Kellen caught brief glimpses of vast urban caverns. The world of light and shining technology gave way to one of shadows, chine shapes moving in a deepening twilight.

  Leaving the train behind, they entered a dense warren of box-like dwelling units. They reminded him of ancient Japanese houses he’d read about, with sliding paper walls, except here the walls were perforated metal and glass. Thoroughfares, pipes, and cables cleaved the vast blocks, chaotic yet perfectly utilitarian. Chines looked older, grungier. Many seemed to be loitering.

  Chronicler led them to one structure indistinguishable from its neighbors. A superstructure of cables and tracks enclosed the building. A tangle of metal strips and gears sped down along a track to where they stood. Chronicler backed up against it. The tangle unfurled, embraced the chine, and hauled it upward, sideways, and out of sight.

  “What was…” Kellen began to say when two more tangles appeared.

  “It’s like an elevator,” Abby said, grinning.

  She loved technology, he reminded himself.

  The tangles deposited them inside an access point where Chronicler waited. It led them down a main hall and into a smaller passageway with doors at irregular intervals. Chronicler stopped at one, waited for the door to open, and passed within. They followed him.

  Kellen was surprised by how small the rectangular space was. At first, he had to stoop to avoid the ceiling, but at some point it seemed to have risen enough to accommodate him. The floor was of the same sturdy metal as the passageways through which they’d arrived, the walls metallic mesh. Beyond the outer wall, past several pipes or beams, a parade of chines flew by, reduced by the obscuring mesh to a stream of shadows. Two charging pads occupied one corner, and a waist-high cube of chrome and black filled the opposite corner. Shelves on the inner wall held familiar-looking artifacts.

  “Are those models of cities on Earth?” Kellen asked.

  “Yes,” Chronicler said. “Historic cities from before Earth’s Third World War.”

  “You mean the Old War?” Abby asked.

  “Is that what you call it?” Chronicler said. “I’ll make a note of it.”

  Kellen couldn’t help but admire the models’ intricate details. Tiny human figures occupied the miniature streets, almost too small to be seen with the unaided eye. He wasn’t sure, but they seemed to move every few seconds.

  “When can we see our people?” Abby asked.

  “We’re working on that,” Chronicler said. “So far, we haven’t been able to reach them. The Precautionists’ security is too meticulous.”

  “What do we do now?” Abby asked.

  “Stay here,” Chronicler said.

  Kellen looked at the cramped space. Tunnel Town and his journeys into the waste came to mind. They’d achieve nothing by staying here. They’d be safe, but to what end? “We didn’t come here to
hide.”

  “I realize that,” Chronicler said. “But for now, I suggest we rest. You remember my being a partial?”

  “Yes,” Abby said.

  “I must re-integrate with my parent self. This process will take some time. Please do not wander from this domicile. You're not safe outside. There may be curious eyes already watching this place. Full feeds are available if you wish. Just be careful with your inquiries. Those might be monitored.”

  Chronicler approached the cube, parts of which began to glow, the light throwing the room into stark relief. The chine settled to the floor and became still. Abby continued to inspect the models, but Kellen felt only an overwhelming fatigue. He sat down on one of the charging pads and let the warm flow of energy coax him into sleep.

  #

  Kellen woke refreshed. Huddled up on the floor, Abby stared out through the translucent walls.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “You really want to know?”

  He nodded.

  “I can’t stop thinking about Gatherer. When I was its slave, I’d say what it wanted me to say, think what it wanted me to think. It raped me, but in my mind. It kept saying it would twist our personalities if we didn’t do what it wanted. It would pervert our identities. Change our memories.”

  Kellen sat beside her. “But it didn’t. We escaped.”

  “I know we did, but it gave me an idea. What if I modified my own personality, erased my memories?”

  She seemed so calm. He’d never have guessed she was considering such drastic measures. “Why would you even think about doing that?”

  “I’ve been thinking about home a lot. I don’t want to miss my family anymore. It hurts too much. I think I can do it—modify my memories, I mean.”

  Kellen followed the logic, but Abby’s idea seemed cold, almost surgical. He knew she hurt, but the alternative felt worse, almost inhuman. Better to stay who you are than become someone else, someone with no past. If we edit ourselves, what do we become?

  “Don’t do it, Abby. We’ll find a way back.”

  “To where? With what we’ve become, we can never go back. Not really.”

  She alone in all the world knew how he felt, the only one to share his fate. He resisted the urge to seize her and shake her, command her not to become a stranger. “Don’t leave me alone.”

  #

  “You should consider using new somes,” Chronicler said, coming out of its integration process.

  “What do you mean?” Kellen asked.

  “Privacy is a rare commodity in the city. The Precautionists are looking for all of us, but especially yourselves. Your current somes are unmistakable. They generate too much interest.”

  “I know it’s not logical,” Abby said. “I know it doesn’t matter anymore. These aren’t our bodies, or they don’t have to be. But even with all that’s happened, despite what I am now, I won’t give up this some. Inside, I’m human. I always will be. Even if my soul is just a bunch of bits and bytes.”

  Kellen agreed. He would cling to any scraps of humanity he had left.

  “I understand,” Chronicler said. “We’ll think of something else, then. In the meantime, I need to go out. Much has happened since I’ve been away. I’ll explain later.”

  “How do we access the feeds?” Kellen asked.

  “Like this,” Chronicler said.

  Something manifested in Kellen’s head, a blinking, waiting something. It seemed to be asking—did he want it, trust it? Yes, he decided, and with that he knew how to tap into the feed signals.

  Abby clapped. “It’s like the virt, only it’s everywhere all the time.”

  An infinite choice of data streams popped into Kellen’s head—video, text, and more waiting to be tapped. News, entertainment, art, communities, politics, commerce, environment. The raging torrent of information dwarfed the primitive virtual networks back on Earth.

  Chronicler left, and Abby delved into the network. Kellen changed his mind and turned off the feed. He could try it later. For now, silence was all he craved. He sat back down on the charging pad, appreciating the warmth even if he could take in no more energy.

  #

  “I’ve arranged a meeting,” Chronicler said upon returning. “Are you ready to see your people?”

  Three chines waited for them on the street, two hulking combat designs and a third, smaller one. The smallest looked more human-like than most chines Kellen had seen, but from its design he guessed it was a fighter as well. Its bipedal some was tall and lanky, full of chained power. It had three arms, one with a long-fingered hand. The other two limbs were folded up along its sides and back.

  “This is Kinetic Strategist, citizen of the Six Star Array, City of the Six Suns.”

  “I am pleased to know you.” Kinetic gestured up at its two companions. “These are my fellow Discoverers, assault-class, as you can see.”

  “Are we expecting a fight?” Abby asked, looking about warily.

  Kellen understood her reaction. The last thing he wanted was more combat. The memory of his arm tearing off made him blanch.

  “They’re here to protect us,” Chronicler said.

  “Where are we going?” Kellen asked.

  “As an artist, you’ll appreciate our destination,” Chronicler said.

  Chapter 28 – Forget

  “Please step back inside,” Interlocuter-Proxy said, as their guards moved forward to intercept the intruders. Their weapon-arms spun with a jet-engine whine, and the air shimmered with heat as the weapons primed.

  Gavin and Xin stood watching the scene.

  “Get back inside!” Sheemi yelled, remembering Mertik’s instructions.

  Fu backed toward the doors, his arms outstretched to protect the scientists. Sheemi followed and reached out to help open the doors. She glanced backward as one of their guards discharged its weapon. The glare left her momentarily blinded as the ground bucked, hurling them off their feet. Sheemi’s helmet hit the doors as she fell. Her head and ears rang, but she managed to stand. Her fingers itched for a weapon.

  The newcomers stood unfazed within a bubble of iridescence. A doughnut-shaped crater had been carved into the street around them. The iridescence winked out, and one of the big intruders pounded forward to grapple one of their guards. The guard buckled and was crushed into the ground. The second guard raised its weapon, but the smaller three-armed intruder leapt at it. Something flickered and the guard’s arm fell to the ground, weapon and all, sliced cleanly through. Fluids spurted and sparks trailed from the wounded guard’s stump. Three-arms pushed it aside like so much junk.

  Interlocuter-Proxy collapsed its limbs and shot into the sky.

  Sheemi felt the door open behind her. Fu pulled her inside.

  “Interlocuter-Proxy’s gone,” she said. “The guards are down. We’re on our own.”

  “Not quite,” he said.

  Inside the museum, three more chines had cut off their escape. The foremost was wheeled and looked at them with glowing amber eyes. The two behind it were disturbingly familiar. At first glance, she took them for humans—then her common sense kicked in. There were no other humans out here. Neither wore a vac suit. One resembled a tall, skinny man. The other a shorter woman with frizzy hair. Both were dressed in clothes someone back in King might wear.

  Three-arms came in behind them and threw the doors shut.

  “What do you want?” Gavin asked.

  “To talk,” said the man-chine.

  Know your enemy—that’s what she’d always been taught. All she knew was these chines had just dispatched their guards quite handily. Choose your words carefully, Sheemi. “You attacked us. Why should we listen?”

  “We defended ourselves against your Precautionist minders,” the wheeled one said.

  “You’re being deceived,” the woman-chine said. “We want to help.”

  “Why do you look like us?” Xin said in the brittle voice of someone
barely keeping it together. “You’re chines. Do you think we’ll be fooled by appearances?”

  “We’re not trying to fool anyone,” the man-chine said. “My name is Kellen Beaudin. This is Abby Tau.” He indicated the woman-chine. “We’re both from Jesup.”

  Had she heard correctly? Had it just said they’d come from one of the New Cities? They’re lying, she decided. But why? She looked at Gavin. From the consternation on his face, he understood as little of this as she did. But she needed to understand. She and Fu had to get the scientists back alive.

  Engage, she thought. I need intel. How can I get it? Keep talking. “Jesup. From Earth? You expect us to believe that?”

  “We were part of the Four,” Kellen said.

  That meant nothing to her, but Gavin looked thoughtful.

  “We came to the city through a gate we found in the chine layers deep beneath Jesup. We activated it, and it sent us here. In the process, we were transformed into chines ourselves.” The chine calling itself Kellen gestured to indicate its body. “Reconstructed as these chine somes. Not to fool anyone except ourselves. We think they were intended to keep us sane until we got used to it.”

  “We didn’t know it would happen,” Abby said. “That we’d be sent here, that we’d be changed.”

  It, she, Abby, seemed sad. Her shoulders drooped and with a downcast gaze, and she stared at her hands. Even her voice sounded pitiful.

  What they were saying seemed impossible, but hadn’t everything she’d experienced since leaving Earth been equally impossible?

  “As soon as we arrived, the Precautionists sent us into exile,” Kellen said. “They are the ones who hold power in the Array, the same ones you’ve been dealing with. We managed to escape when Chronicler”—the wheeled chine gestured an acknowledgement—“and the other Discoverers helped us. They’ve been trying to contact you, to warn you. They got past the guards once, but your people wouldn’t listen.”

  Gavin and Xin traded looks.

  “Why do you call them Precautionists?” Gavin asked.