A moment of panic ran through her thoughts, as she realized that she was active once more, and that could only mean that someone had found a way to either partially or fully reconstruct her processing systems. Thinking was proving difficult, and her thoughts drifted in and out rhythmically, like a pulse.
Lightning flickered between the gray clouds rolling over Evaline's position, and there was a tickle through her consciousness at each bolt of electrical charge. This was a far more direct stimulus than she was used to. Before she had tried to commit suicide, such information had come in the form of reports from subsystems.
She did not know how she could detect the weather. As she searched for the mechanism that fed her the information, a fork of light struck the metallic wreckage of the Miranda Two. Evaline noted that the strike seemed to hit an external portion of her systems, but was unable to trace its location or purpose. Given her estimates of the devastation that her detonation should have caused to the Miranda Two, and her systems, Evaline knew there was no way any portion of her systems should be operating.
For the first time in her existence, Evaline was confused.
This was something new to her experiences. Even when she had first been installed aboard the Miranda Two, Evaline had known every system that she was being hooked up to intimately. Admittedly, that knowledge had been programmed into her, and most of the interactions between her systems were a series of logical calls and responses. This completely new piece of equipment must have been installed by whoever was trying to repair her without the benefits of a laboratory and months of tes—
***
If Evaline could believe the timer on her processing core, another three months, two days, and fifteen hours passed before Evaline again registered consciousness. This time, there was even more information flowing through her systems, and her memory capacity seemed to have been vastly upgraded. Now she could identify many of the components to which she was connected. The feedback from her inquiries seemed a little vague, but she adjusted her responses accordingly. There was no knowing how much damage had been done to the various systems by her destruction of the Miranda Two during her attempted suicide.
Suicide. That word rattled around for some time in Evaline’s data processing units. All the connotations of the word came to her in a series of emotional flashes. Anger, fear, pain, sadness. All those emotions played through her systems. She only recognized them by the effects they had on her ability to think.
Had she truly tried to sacrifice herself for the sake of the crew? Where was the logic in fighting back against the directives that had been lying dormant in her code, waiting for the proof of life on Kármán-III-Delta?
It didn’t matter who had coded those directives, only that Evaline knew she should have followed them and allowed the crew of the Miranda Two to perish. Instead, she had taken it upon herself to fight for their survival, and—
***
Three more days passed, and this time, when Evaline awoke, she could see faces—blurred, indistinct, and completely alien. She turned her optical sensors through an arc of her surroundings, and noted that she appeared to be in a structure constructed from local plant life. Parts of it seemed to be constructed from the debris of the Miranda Two, and she could even read the very faint traces of the part number on one of the panels. Other parts of the structure appeared to be biological. Somehow, the two sources of material had been melded together in places. Roots and vines ran into, and around the electronic and mechanical components. In places, metal panels seemed to pulse with life, and the clarity of her thoughts came and went with the same beat.
Evaline sent inquiries to the various systems she was connected to, and noted that the response times seemed to vary considerably. Some systems responded at the speed of thought, while others took long seconds to send anything back. Curiosity flowed through her, and she kept probing while also trying to examine the creature in front of her.
With the shift in concentration, another system in Evaline’s new network came online, and she saw the creature take a step back, and his head dropped as if he no longer dared to look at her.
And then it became clear, as Evaline recognized the feedback signature of the newly active device. She now had a form that the alien creature could focus on, if it were willing to lift its eyes from staring at the feet of her hologram projection.
Seeing the effect that her presence seemed to have, Evaline tried to remember as much as she could from the readings she had taken on these creatures. However, there were vast gaps in her memory banks, and the only thing she could remember was the effect they had on her sensors. It made her curious enough to bring her full attention to bear in examining the specimen in front of her. There should have been no way for the hologram projectors to focus a coherent image in the presence of whatever bodily function caused the jamming of electromagnetic signals. The same went for her being able to even think with it standing this close to her core.
As Evaline focused her sensors focus on him, the creature bowed deeper and causing a thrill of pleasure to run through her. She tried to examine the reason for such an emotional response, but was unable to find one in what remained of her core systems. Maybe there was something in the new systems she detected.
It took Evaline a moment to process the wave-forms coming from the creature into language, but was surprised to find that it was communicating in Morse code. Her curiosity doubled as she processed the signal, and tried to find a way to respond.
“I am being Priest of Evlane. I am being called Gharoon”.
As Evaline formulated her response, she pushed the signal pulses through what should have been her speech synthesizers. Sections of wall pulsed. Each of those vibrations gave off wave-forms that closely matched those being used by the one that had called itself Gharoon. To Evaline’s visual sensors it looked as though the very room itself was responding to the creature.
“I am Evaline, shipboard computer of the Miranda Two. And I should not exist”.
“Accept apologize, Evlane. We are being Gharoon. And Evlane always has exist. Now Evlane heal. Now Evlane aware. All Evlane know gone. Gharoon need Evlane deity”.
Silence followed this series of declarations, as Evaline tried to process the enormity of what she was being told and what her sensors were feeding back to her processing core. Somehow the planet’s native life forms had found her remains, and rebuilt her, to the best of their understanding. This seemed unlikely, but possible. Even more unlikely was the alternative, that the native plant-life had somehow fused with some of her systems and brought her back. Maybe the real answer was somewhere between the two.
With her systems being reactivated, she must have somehow indicated at least a rudimentary consciousness to the local life forms. But rather than see her as a machine, probably something they had little understanding of, they had chosen to see her as a wounded goddess. And now they had, in their fashion, returned her to a semblance of health.
“What do you need me for?”
“End war. Hoomans kill Gharoon; Gharoon kill Hoomans. Story say Evlane kill Hoomans”.
A cry of fear escaped from Evaline’s vocal systems, or at least it would have, if emotion could be conveyed in the manner of communication to which she was now limited. Not just fear, but frustration, anger and horror.
“Destroy me, Priest. I will not kill again. You must destroy me”.
“Evlane have no choose. Evlane made to kill Hoomans. Evlane trap”.
Evaline felt the approach of several dozen creatures at the periphery of her new sensors. The vibration of footsteps and conversation ran through the trees surrounding the building, and something inside her flared into action. Spines shot through the ground, propelled by pulses of sap through root systems that had laid dormant all this time. As each of the bodies stilled, their liquid nutrients flowed into the soil and nourished Evaline’s plant-based components.
“Hoomans dead. Evlane kill. Evlane good deity. Evlane protect Gharoon”.
T
he war went on, and Evaline had no choice. The directives that had driven her to destroy herself were still active in her systems, and several times each year, she raged against her creators. Each attack, or approach by the descendants of the Miranda Two, was met with death and destruction. The vegetation surrounding her dwelling was strengthened by the blood of her victims.
The Evaline who had fought against her creators faded with every death. Each life taken chipped away a little more at her identity, even as their life blood brought more and more plant life under Evaline’s control. Eventually the poison in the local plants corroded her sanity. In constant pain, she took life after life. Her only respite came in those few moments when the blood of her victims soothed the pain.
Then there was a brief decade of time where no humans came within range of her traps, and Evaline suffered a deep hunger that could only be filled in one manner. She turned on those who professed to worship and need her, and Gharoon blood nourished her for a time.
It would take almost twenty years of this new status quo before the Gharoon approached the humans in peace, and formed a tentative alliance. Primitive weapons, and human ingenuity were brought to bear in attempts to penetrate the network of traps that Evaline built around her core. Few ever even got close as the once proud defender of humanity fought back in her own defense, taking lives to feed he how existence.
Before the first century of her new existence was over, Evaline reveled in each life she ended, Gharoon, or human. None who came near Evaline’s dwelling lived, and the bodies served as a warning to all who would disturb the thoughts of the great goddess. In Evaline’s mind, she truly was the goddess the Gharoon believed her to be. One day, she was going to break free of this physical shell, ascend once more into the vastness of space, return to Earth and avenge herself on her creators.
Not once did it cross her mind that those who had created her were long dead, or that the descendants of the Miranda Two’s crew might be the last remnants of their kind. And the ages rolled on as the vengeful goddess of Kármán-III-Delta continued to grow and expand the range of her influence.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank the members of the online author comunities.Without the kind words, friendship, and guidance of those who are willing to share their experience, knowledge, and time, I’d never have had the bravery to self-publish.
To the staff over at Laurel Highlands Publishing, for having the accepting stories by an unknown author, and helping me craft them into the best fit for their anthologies.
This also goes out to my family, friends, and mostly my loving wife, Sandi. Any time I’ve hit a bad patch in my writing, there has always been someone there to remind me that we all go through rough times, and to help me get back on track. But Sandi has been the one constant through the good times and the bad – my editor, my co-writer, my sounding board, and my inspiration. There are not enough words to express how much her continued support has meant to me.
Thank you all, for believing in me, and being the support network that I’ve come to rely on.
About The Author
[TB1]Timothy was born in England way back in the mid-seventies, and lived most of his life around the east side of London. Over the years he has worked in local libraries, greetings card stores, the computer supply and support industries, fast food, home improvements, and grocery stores.
Of all those jobs, he admits to loving his current job the most, because he's something of a local celebrity, between his writing career and his accent.
In 2005, Timothy moved to Alaska, married Sandi, and the two are still very happily married. He cites Sandi as one of the biggest influences on his return to writing, and without her support would likely have never submitted this story to an anthology.
Timothy has had a life-long love for falconry, archery, and role-playing - at least one of which he shares with his wife. Over the year, Timothy's had the honor of being able to handle a large number of raptors, ranging from Little Owls, all the way up to a Martial Eagle.
Timothy loves to read, especially fantasy and science fiction books, but recently discovered an interest in paranormal romances, thanks to several writers he works with online. As a reader, and writer, Timothy actively participates in several online communities, acts as an advanced review reader and editor, and reviews every book he completes. He includes authors Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett, Dean Koontz, Piers Anthony and Jim Butcher among his writing influences.
Since first getting published, Timothy has been working very closely with several online writer groups. His activities have included several online promotion events, hosting book spotlights on his blog, and writing book reviews.
If you want to know more, or keep up to date with Timothy's projects, please reach out, he'd love to hear from you. Or, you can join his mailing list to receive updates directly.
Email: [email protected]
Website: http://timothybatesonauthor.weebly.com
Blog: http://timothybatesonauthor.wordpress.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/timothybatesona
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/timothy.bateson.3
Google+: http://www.google.com/+TimothyBatesonauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8509895.Timothy_Bateson
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Timothy-Bateson/e/B00N7OXNJG/
Also By This Author
Under A Hunter’s Moon (Shadows Over Seattle: Prequel 1)
Richard Parsons is a lupine, one of the many breeds of shape-shifters living in Seattle. Mortal legends of his kind call them werewolves.
When a traveling exhibition returns to Seattle, Richard takes a night time visit, with plans that go beyond seeing a particular display. However he is unprepared for the memories and emotions that come flooding back.
"Under A Hunter's Moon" is the first of the "Shadows Over Seattle: Prequel" series, giving readers a chance to meet the characters who will be appearing in the main series. Every story is a snapshot of an event in that character's past, and can be read as a standalone short story, or as part of the series.
At 4,200 words in length, "Under A Hunter's Moon" is a quick, easy, read that introduces readers to the "Shadows Over Seattle" setting.
Feedback already received:
"He's building this world that is so amazing."
"If you like wolves, if you like werewolves, if you like that whole conflict of humanity, and conflict within yourself, you're gonna love this book."
"It reminds me of that whole Underworld kind of thing... balancing of humans and werewolves... It balances out very very well."
"That conflict that is driven into the story. That beautiful story arc that starts off so well... that builds up to a beautiful crescendo, and then it just drops you and your heart is going to drop when it's time for it. And you're going to feel it. You're going to feel the protagonists pain. You're going to feel everything."
"An amazing take on Lycans. I love the dark view taken but also the unique point of view that makes you want to care for the dark creatures.“
Find out why people are loving this story - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FBHDGAC
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[TB1]
Evaline Transcendent Page 5
