Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga

by Bertauski, Tony

  At first, there was only the white meat of muscle and the gleam of bone. Then the blood came, warmly. The rain washed it away, but didn’t stem the flow that poured into my palm.

  I circled around, walked backwards towards the sea while shock weakened my knees.

  Fetter grabbed my wrist before I could cradle my hand. “Focus, darling. You can be new again.”

  I stepped back, further into the encroaching water.

  “Open to your true nature,” she said. “You are not human. You can be whatever you want.”

  Her grip was too strong. I simply fell to my knees, sinking into the shifting sand.

  “Accept your true nature, darling.”

  I tried to resist her words, but the pain striped away my resistance. I felt the angry nerves at the end of my bloody stumps. I felt the torn flesh and muscle. I’m present with it, connected with it. Not separate.

  “There you go,” she said, softly. “Whatever you want.”

  I willed the flesh to rebuild, the muscles to regenerate. The nerves to branch out. I wanted it to stop; I didn’t want it to be true. But I couldn’t deny true nature.

  And just as I willed the flesh and nerves to become new, the blood stopped. Lightning flashed and the stumps elongated. I felt the sting of fresh nerves and new flesh. Knobby knuckles formed and fingernails grew. The skin was lighter than before. It was new.

  “Ask,” she said, “and you shall receive in this world.”

  Humans can’t regenerate. I can.

  “Welcome home. Son.”

  Truth.

  It’s not open to interpretation. It just is.

  If this is a hallucination, then I accept it as reality. I feel it. I am it. It is my new reality.

  The last shreds of resistance gave way. I opened to Fetter, felt her presence swarm inside me. No more separation. I am this world.

  The rain stopped. Sudden silence. The sky was completely black, not a star above. It thundered in the distance like God approved of my acceptance.

  I lost my balance and fell into the shallow surf. A wave pushed over my face. Fetter gargled in and out of detail as the tide pushed and receded. The water flowed into me and through me. Fetter bent over, her face close to the water. Her lips moved.

  Darling.

  Her fingers dipped into the water and penetrated my chest. I felt the breeze on her cheeks. We were no longer separate. I am her, she is me. Exhilaration vibrated inside her/me.

  Take me.

  Balance returned to the world. Water gushed through me like fresh air. My mind dissolved in the vast ocean. And it felt good. Felt right. Fetter’s love was warm and embracing. I will be happy here.

  As I integrated further into the world, I began to see in all directions. I saw through Fetter’s eyes. She was looking down at me, my face below the water. I also saw through my own eyes. I was looking up at her. Lightning gathered in a knot in the blackened sky. It crept from all directions until it was a ball of electric light directly above us. Fetter sensed it, or perhaps saw it through my eyes. She saw it too late.

  Lightning exploded down like a javelin. For a nanosecond, I expected it to pierce through her chest, a bolt from a god striking another god at just the moment of distraction.

  It plunged through my chest!

  The last of my vision caught the look of Fetter’s shock. The lightning then took my sight. An enormous vacuum pulled at the hole in my chest, followed by an excruciating sense of expansion.

  Bones breaking, flesh tearing.

  I sensed the fading of the details around me.

  There was silence. Blackness. Emptiness.

  Then a flash of blue and the compression of a wormhole.

  L E G E N D

  Truth

  I remember screaming.

  The sensation of bursting. Blood. Sand.

  There is a vision of a black, lightless planet. Somehow, I absorbed Fetter. She existed only in the circuits that made up that planet, like an electronic ghost. She is a program, but somehow she is immortal. She didn’t need the black planet to exist. And she can’t be destroyed. I know this because she’s inside me.

  The black planet is dead without her. Pivot struck when I integrated with her. For I am not a gift. Not a son.

  I am a weapon.

  L E G E N D

  When a dam breaks

  I was on my back. Eyes closed.

  I felt enormous. Not the fat-bloated-tearing enormous, more like my presence filled the inside of the black ship that had taken me through the wormholes. I felt interconnected with the smooth curvature of the discus-shaped walls. It was half buried in a sand dune.

  But I wasn’t just expansive and connected with the ship, I was experiencing everything within the ship, like I was interconnected with all physical existence. I was the floating dust particles, the bits of debris on the floor, the stray body hair and shed skin cells and the micro-organisms. I was interlaced with the structure of every molecule inside the ship, including the person standing inside it.

  Pivot. The grimmets stormed the Outpost for him, they sensed he’d returned. They knew he was inside me. Did they know he created me?

  Fetter was no dream. Pike had not poisoned my mind, no matter how strange and hallucinogenic it was. I was back on Earth, and I carried the truth of my true nature. I’m not human.

  It’s strange to realize your entire life has been a lie. That, in fact, I’m nothing more than circuits and fluid, that my brain is a processor that thinks and believes it’s alive, that my memories are just data. That when I die, it won’t matter. Not really.

  I sat up, opened my eyes. Pivot was there, fourteen feet away in the sunny portion of the invisible-walled ship, just as I knew he was.

  My hands looked slightly different. I wiggled my fingers. The ones that were cut off and regenerated, the new ones, were a lighter color than the original skin on my other hand. Long bleached lines ran down my arms like they had split open and new flesh filled in. I pulled up my shirt. My chest was striped, too. There was as much new skin as there was original. I exploded. But the king’s men put me back together again. The king, standing in the sun, waiting for me to awaken.

  I got up, gingerly. Pain sliced through my earlobe. I expected blood to be on my fingers but the ache faded when I reached for my ear. I stepped to the line of sunlight that cut across the middle of the ship. I remained in the shadow of the sand dune.

  [You could not know your true nature.] Pivot’s thought resonated in my head. [You never would’ve reached Fetter if you had. That is something you couldn’t hide.]

  My lips curled over my teeth. “Why?”

  [You absorbed all of her and brought us back. Fetter is now here.] He took his hands from behind him, displayed a black cube. It absorbed the sunlight, bending the space around it, appeared more like a square hole in space than an actual object, its mass pulling light back to it. [Her existence needs to end.]

  Waves of warm, healing energy emanated from him. I didn’t want an apology or sympathy. I wanted fucking answers. “You… created me. You built me to carry you to her so you could… get revenge? This is about fucking payback?”

  [It is about all of life.]

  “Don’t hand me that shit! I’m talking about what you did to me! You built me!”

  [You were born.]

  “No, I was built. You say it, Pivot. I wasn’t born, I was manufactured. Say it.”

  Silence hardened between us.

  “SPEAK TO ME, GODDAMN YOU! Look up and speak to me! You tell me why you did this! You tell me how any creature in this universe deserves this! You tell me how you can live with yourself, how you could build and love a… a…”

  Thing. I’m a thing.

  For the last year, I felt Pivot near me. Always sensed his presence, his warmth and caring. I had no father; I psychologically craved someone to take his place. Pivot was that presence, he filled that need. I looked for his acceptance and guidance; I followed his footsteps because I believed in him. Was that the p
lan, to be a father-figure so I would follow him? For that to happen, my father had to be dead.

  “You killed him.”

  [I did not.]

  “You tell the truth, did you murder him?”

  [Your father was a beautiful man.]

  “But it wasn’t a bad thing he died. How I had this enormous emotional hole for a father, someone to look up to, and there you were. Was that a coincidence? Because none of this is random, Pivot. This is all one big fucking master plan and Pike knew this. How did he know, Pivot? How did Pike know this was going to happen? Is he part of this, too?”

  Pivot didn’t respond.

  “You’re behind it all; you’ve been steering me like a mule. I’m just bait, dangling on a hook for Fetter to snap up. Well, now the puppet knows he’s a puppet. What now?”

  [The universe is lucky to have you.]

  “SHUT UP WITH THAT!” The ship shuddered. “The universe is no luckier to have me than a rock or a hammer, so I don’t want to hear about love and the rest of your lies. That’s for humans, Pivot. That’s for things that exist, that are real. That matter.” Sand trickled down the dune. “Not self-aware things.”

  [You do not understand—]

  “I understand the only reason I exist was to carry you into Fetter. There’s nothing else to understand, no other reason for my life! YOU USED ME!” Boom. Boom. Boom. Anger thundered from my chest, thudding against the walls. “How could you do this to me?”

  He only stood there, head down, allowing my energy to pound the ship. My presence wrapped around him. The air became my body and I felt his entire being. I latched onto every cell in his body. I could throw him through the wall, crush him into powder, dissect him like a high school science project. But I did none of that. I only forced him to look up. With a thought, I pushed his chin up. His hair fell off his face, exposed an expression of remorse.

  “Speak.”

  [I lost the ability to speak.] He shook the hair from his eyes. [And see.]

  “Why?”

  [Some things cannot be undone.]

  “So it’s true, what Fetter said. You and her are… you think you’re gods?”

  [No longer.]

  “But you’re not real, any more than me.”

  [Fetter and I created the black planet, but I realized the folly of our existence. I escaped in order to correct my error.]

  “You want to destroy her?”

  [The time has come.]

  “What gives you the right?” The ship creaked under pressure. I took a deep breath, let my pain and confusion penetrate his awareness so that he could feel what he had done.

  “What’s it like to be so callus, so unfeeling? To behave like a machine?”

  [I have not lied to you.]

  “Have not lied?” Sand slid over the top of the craft, trickling along the side, casting a flowing shadow over the floor. “Your concept of honesty is warped.”

  [If you knew your true nature, Fetter never would’ve taken you inside, never would’ve opened to you, merged with you, allowed you to absorb her. To trap her.]

  I charged into the sunlight. “YOU LET ME LOVE!”

  His eyes moved, but did not focus. His lips parted, but there were no words. Only a thought. [I have much to atone for.]

  I spit on him. “Manumit is your name.”

  [I accept that.]

  “You are nothing. Pivot is dead.”

  [I understand.]

  “You couldn’t possibly. No one in existence could understand what this feels like.” I grabbed his face with one hand. “I don’t want to know why you did this because I don’t care about your petty war. I loved you. How could you do this to me? That’s what I don’t understand. How could you do this to anyone?”

  He opened his mind, thoughts drifted toward me. Images of his past. Effortlessly, and spitefully, I pushed them away. “Don’t touch me with your mind.” I stepped closer, he could feel my breath. “Just explain.”

  [If you wish to understand, you must see.]

  His milky eyes looked directly at me. His thoughts waited. He would not force them on me. In fact, he couldn’t force me to do anything. I had become more than him. I walked away, feeling anger seethe like a pyre. My presence pushed against the confines of the ship. The walls buckled. I didn’t want his touch, didn’t want his presence. But I wanted to know.

  I walked to the back of the ship where it was dark, trembling. When all was still, I opened my mind. Visions of his past drifted toward me and melted into my consciousness. I closed my eyes.

  I saw his life.

  [My ancestors were pioneers.]

  The space craft was the size of a stadium and sparkled with lights where people lived normal lives. It was large enough to grow crops and raise animals, everything to sustain life. The ship travelled through thousands of solar systems by finding natural wormholes in space.

  Eventually, they uncovered the secret to space and existed in a vacuum of time that moved sideways instead of forward. Many generations were born and raised on that ship before those on their home planet aged a second in time.

  [Their mission was to find a habitable planet besides their own. It became their only mission. However, they had become lost and, despite their navigational technology, they could not find their way back home.]

  The ship hovered past planet after planet, some with water and ice while others were hot and dry. When the conditions were deemed habitable, they transported to the surface. But the environments were still harsh where wind punished igloo-shaped buildings under a sulfuric yellow sky. Scientists studied data, hoping they could find a way to survive without the aid of suits and equipment, hoping that one day they could leave the ship.

  Instead, each planet brought sickness and death.

  [My people discovered so many solar systems, but so many were lost and so little was learned. They simply couldn’t adapt to another planet. They were destined to remain on a decaying ship. Hope faded. Until I was born.]

  On board the ship, a child ran through the corridors, chased by older kids. This boy had sandy hair. His eyes were clear blue. The kids caught this child and even though they were bigger, he deftly avoided their clutches, striking at their knees and slipping between their legs until he escaped.

  This child was eighteen when he took command of the deep space colony. The population had dwindled and there were few left to challenge him, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Some men are trained to lead. Others are born. His visage was calm yet demanding. He was reliable, always at his post. He led all explorations. When they returned, he personally went to each family to express his sorrow for their loss. Afterwards, he sought quietude with a woman.

  As the years went by, they had a daughter. Some nights, he watched his family sleep. And some nights, the captain silently wept. He wasn’t supposed to be weak; he was expected to embody strength and fearlessness. But his people were running out of time.

  Even heroes falter.

  [There was a choice to be made: watch my people die or embrace technology. After generations of searching, it was clear we would never be able to adapt to another planet. Our bodies were organic. Vulnerable. If I chose technology, we could survive. But there would be no turning back. In my mind, the choice was simple.]

  The captain was in a laboratory, strapped onto a white bed, his head secured with steel bands. A crew of scientists watched from behind a glass wall. His wife was among them. She did not chew on her fingernails or tap her foot, for she was the wife of the captain, and his duty included risk.

  Stainless steel infusion guns fit through holes on the bed, pressed against his spine, a barrel for each vertebra. The captain clenched the white sheet. He took three short breaths, held the last one and blinked. A green light turned on.

  He tried not to scream.

  [I was the first to accept the conversion into inorganic existence. It was controversial technology, but we had experimented with rats. We did not know if it would work on a human, but I’d seen enough of my peop
le die.]

  He shook long after the infusion guns were removed and the green light turned off. The scientists watched him convulse. Spittle foamed on his lips and he broke through the steel straps. The captain fell on the floor. The scientists rushed in to help, but there was nothing they could do.

  [The nanomechs imitated blood cells and began the replication of the body’s organs, muscles and blood. If we were correct, my organic body would be replaced with an exact duplication of mechanized cells. Like a full body prosthesis.]

  The captain lay in a coma for weeks with his wife by his side. They monitored his vitals and watched his heart beat slower and blood pressure drop. Even when his heart stopped beating and began to hum, he was still alive.

  Conversion complete.

  [I awoke a new man, no longer organic. No longer human. But I had the same memories. The same personality.]

  On a mountainous planet where precipitation hissed like acid on an igloo hut, the captain stepped outside. The scientists followed in protective suits. He raised his arms, laughing loudly in the howling wind. The rain melted his skin, but it just as quickly healed.

  [I became indestructible.]

  The lab was expanded with more beds and infusion guns. Conversion technology was in full swing and the people lined up. The infusions healed their bodies. There was no difference in how they felt or behaved, they only felt better. Even the children were converted and continued to grow and mature, some without a clue of what they had become.

  [Not all conversions were successful. Some bodies rejected the nanomechs like a virus. We all made sacrifices to survive. I was no different.]

  The captain held his wife’s hand just before their child was pushed away on a rolling bed. They stood at the glass wall and watched the infusion guns pump the nanomechs into her. Watched her flail about. Watched the monitors flat-line. The scientists did everything they could to revive her. The captain and his wife pushed them away, furiously thumped her chest. In the end, they held her, rocking back and forth. They buried her alone, on an unknown planet, dug the hole with their bare hands.