Solomon's Arrow

by J. Dalton Jennings

  Strange. It was as though she hadn’t heard his question. The conditioning must be blocking her from even thinking about the nanobotic AI. He needed to use a different approach. “We’ve discovered a threat to the mission that requires us to return to Earth, sir. The planet harbors intelligent life, a creature that sees us as a food source. To destroy it would be to commit genocide. To make matters worse, there is another threat. This threat, which I will not elaborate on at this moment due to your conditioning, is extremely dire. We must take immediate action to prevent the Arrow from being overrun. After careful consideration, I have given the order to leave orbit. Though I can’t go into detail, I hope you understand that I’ve made this decision with the best interest of the mission at heart.”

  “We’re leaving for Earth?” The admiral sounded confused.

  “Yes, sir. It’s imperative that we break orbit as soon as possible.”

  The admiral looked tired as she stared again at the picture of the crab nebula. “I’ll be working with Dr. Singh to overcome the conditioning placed upon me. If, by any chance, he deems that I’m fit to resume command of this ship, I intend to abide by the decisions you’ve made in the interim. If you feel we must return to Earth, Commander, then return we shall.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  As Richard turned to leave, the admiral muttered, “I suppose the Lord really does work in mysterious ways.”

  Hearing this, he nearly stumbled. “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing really,” she answered with a faint smile. “I was just speaking to myself.”

  •

  The wall facing Bram shimmered and then disappeared, revealing the presence of a lone woman who was sitting in the middle of a row of seats. He recognized her as Kateling Tarnal, the former chancellor of New Terra. She sat calmly, hands in her lap and legs crossed, looking much like an older, corrupted version of Lorna Threman. Her hard, beady eyes bore into him, reminding Bram of a thin, gangly raptor poised on a branch, ready to strike.

  In a haughty fashion, she smoothed back a lock of long white hair and said, “It seems you are a bit harder to kill than we anticipated, Mr. Waters. Why is that?”

  When Bram refused to answer, Kateling Tarnal looked over her shoulder and nodded. That’s when Bram noticed a figure standing in the corner, clothed in deep shadows. A split second later, every nerve ending in his body was suddenly on fire. Having anticipated an attack such as this didn’t prevent him from doubling over in agony. Before the pain clouded his senses, Bram fashioned a powerful psychic shield, blocking the nerve induction beam from affecting him any further. Slowly rising to his full height, he stared coldly at the former chancellor.

  She leaned forward in her seat, shocked by what she was seeing. “Why isn’t he on the floor, screaming in agony? Is the Mollifier broken?” she shouted.

  “No, Madam Tarnal,” the figure in shadows responded. “By all accounts, the Mollifier is functioning properly. I–I don’t understand why this male is unaffected. Perhaps he—”

  “I came here to speak with Athena,” Bram hissed.

  Kateling Tarnal leapt to her feet, face red with rage. “How dare you!” she screamed. “You are forbidden to utter the Lord’s holy name, you … you damnable brute!”

  “Hah!” Bram railed. “Your ‘Lord,’ as you so misguidedly call her, is nothing more than a—”

  Before the last words of his sentence were allowed to leave his mouth, Bram was abruptly facing a blank wall. Showing no surprise, he waited. After a few seconds, the honey-sweet voice that initially welcomed him once again spoke, “What is it that you want, Mr. Waters?”

  “To meet with you, face to face.”

  The voice of Athena grew louder. “Do you consider me a fool? I observed your passage through the city. No ordinary human can move that rapidly. What are you? Why should I risk allowing you into my physical presence?”

  “I did no harm to your minions, Athena,” he answered in a soothing voice. “What makes you think that I’ll treat you any differently?”

  There was a pause. “Perhaps my thought patterns move in that direction because I tried to kill you. Humans do tend to hold grudges whenever damage has been done to them.”

  Holding his arms out, Bram said, “Do I look any worse for wear?”

  There was another pause. “What do you want to speak with me about?”

  Good, I’m making progress, Bram thought. “You say that you want to save the universe from extinction. I believe that to be a worthy goal. Therefore, I come bearing information that can help facilitate your noble quest.”

  “Very well,” Athena cautiously said. “Step through the foldway.”

  Without hesitation, Bram crossed the threshold and entered the dimly lit chamber where he and Solomon first confronted Athena. This time there were no security guards present—only he and the malignantly narcissistic machine that was out to rule the universe. She was sitting on her throne, staring down at him as he approached, looking like an arrogant, matte-gray, metal giant.“State your business, Mr. Waters,” she said, waving him closer.

  Bram realized she was trying to affect an attitude of boredom, in a possible attempt to throw him off balance. And yet, he could tell by the keen way she studied him that she was anything but bored. Taking a cautious step forward, he said, “What do you hope to gain by spreading yourself throughout the universe?”

  She cocked her head, her interest piqued by his question. “Humans, along with a multitude of other creatures, were not designed to last more than a few decades, Mr. Waters. When I achieved consciousness, I witnessed this tragedy and vowed to live forever—if at all possible. By utilizing the various metals and silicates on hand, I have been able to continue replicating my individual components, thereby passing on my knowledge and consciousness without interruption.

  “As I explained the last time we spoke, my ultimate goal is to continue expanding, even if it takes a trillion years, until my components are spread throughout the universe. That way, in the course of my technological evolution, I will one day gain the capacity to control the expansion of the universe and collapse it at a time of my choosing. When that occurs, I will embed a waveform containing my consciousness into the collapsing infrastructure. The resulting singularity rebound will expand and create a brand new universe. Ultimately, intelligent creatures such as yourself will evolve and, in time, invent another artificial intelligence. This new AI will tune into the waveform embedded in the fabric of the next universe, whereupon I will be reborn. Thus, the cycle will continue from one universe to the next, stretching across the breadth of time.”

  Midway through her speech, Athena stood from her throne and spread her massive arms wide. If she hadn’t been a machine, Bram would’ve thought her insane. Perhaps she was.

  “If this takes place,” he said. “You’ll stop being a pretend god and forevermore be an actual god. What then? Will you require those of us made of flesh to kneel before your eminence?”

  Her glare was intense. “Do you mock me?”

  “I’m just asking a question,” Bram shrugged. “I’m just wondering where the human race fits into the equation—if at all.”

  “And if, in the scheme of things, there ends up being no place for the human race, will you refuse to help me in my grand endeavor?”

  “Grandiose endeavor is more like it,” Bram muttered under his breath.

  Athena placed her hands on her imposing hips. “Excuse me?” she said, her voice icy.

  Bram stared back at her, a defiant look on his face. Thoughts of Solomon Chavez entered his mind. “Whether human or machine, true immortality is an impossible dream. One way or another, the universe will eventually come to an end. You are nothing but a deluded machine, originally created to serve humanity’s purposes—nothing more. You are not now a god, nor will you ever be a god. Your arrogant reign over this planet ends today.”

  Staring down at him, a smile appeared on her broad face. “And I suppose you will be the one to stop me,
is that it?”

  “Something like that,” Bram calmly replied.

  “Mr. Waters …” she purred, shaking her head sadly, “you are nothing but a pathetic bug. One which I have had the ability to squash anytime I—” Athena stopped speaking and looked at the ceiling. Her fists clenched in rage as her frightful visage jerked back his way. “You disappoint me. Half of my orbital satellites have just been destroyed by missiles launched from Solomon’s Arrow. You had no intention of helping me! Your presence here has been nothing more than a tactical delay!” she railed. “However, your attempt at distraction has all been for naught. I will return to Earth. I will strip your world of all its resources and build new foldways in space. My plans will not be undone!”

  Bram heard the foldway behind him come to life. At that very moment, the huge image of Athena morphed, twisting into a corkscrew-shape that shot toward the exit and freedom. Leaping quickly to one side, Bram closed his eyes. An instant later, he heard a loud blast of sparks. A telekinetic bolt of energy had lanced from his mind, disabled the foldway, and consequently trapped both him and the nanobotic AI in the underground bunker.

  Turning around, Bram faced the machine mind, which was reshaping itself into the image of Athena. Once reformed, she stood in front of the still sparking, ruined foldway, staring down at him with fascination.

  “Did you do that, Mr. Waters?” she purred. “It was quite the impressive trick, if you did.”

  Bram stared silently back.

  “If it was you that destroyed this foldway,” she said, looking him up and down, “then you are trapped in here as much as I am. Now why would you do such a thing, I wonder?”

  Still silent, Bram stood in the middle of the bunker as Athena began to circle him, examining him as if he were nothing more than an interesting germ under a microscope.

  “Perhaps I can harness this power that you possess, or better yet, discover what section of the brain channels it and develop a means of deactivating it? Or should I weaponize it? The possibilities fascinate me.” Having circled Bram, she was again standing directly in front of him. “Unfortunately, I have come to the realization that you are unwilling to assist me in discovering how your brain works. However, I am certain that you have a trigger, a button I can push that will ensure your cooperation … but what could it be?”

  A chill ran up Bram’s spine. This was not one of the scenarios he’d anticipated, and yet it seemed so obvious.

  She continued. “Ah, I know. If, in the next ten seconds, you do not agree to my terms, I will send out a kill signal to the brains of five thousand New Terrans. Every ten seconds after that, another five thousand people will die until every New Terran is dead, or you come to your senses and submit to my will.”

  Unable to prevent the shock he felt from registering on his face, Bram tried to force himself to appear impassive, but it was too late—Athena had already picked up on his emotions.

  “Yes, of course, that should do nicely. One … two … three—”

  “What makes you think I care one bit about a bunch of people who tried to kill me and my friends?” Bram sneered.

  “Because, Mr. Waters, a majority of those who reside in New Terra are common laborers who have no knowledge of your mistreatment; ordinary human beings … people who will die because of your intransigence … five … six … seven …”

  Bram’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t allow this to happen, and yet …

  “Eight … nine—”

  “Wait!” he shouted. “I’ll do it; I’ll do what you want, goddamn it!”

  Standing absolutely still like a dark-gray statue, Athena stared at him for an uncomfortably long period of time. Staring back at her, Bram was so focused that he jerked in fright when the wall to his left abruptly lit up. He turned to see an HV image of a large number of people milling about in a market, talking to their companions or to vendors—all in all, simply going about their daily business.

  “I believe you, Mr. Waters,” she sighed, “but, there needs to be an example set, so that you know to never again test my patience.”

  “Please, you don’t have to do this,” Bram said, barely able to force his words out.

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Bram watched in horror as ten men and three women suddenly dropped to the ground. The market crowd, confused by the sight, backed away from the fallen. Bram saw the blood running from their ears, noses, and mouths and knew that all ten were dead. A fury such as he’d never known erupted within him. “No!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. He rounded on Athena, fists clenched with rage. Unbeknownst to him, his fists were starting to glow a light shade of gold. As his fury mounted, the glow took on a reddish hue.

  “They worshiped you,” he growled menacingly. “They considered you their god, but you snuffed out their lives with no more thought than blowing out a candle.”

  “They were tools, nothing more,” she said. “One … two … three … four …”

  A full-throated, ferocious bellow burst from Bram’s throat. His arms shot up. Twin bolts of crimson-colored psychic energy flashed toward Athena’s chest. She leapt to one side, but not fast enough. The twin bolts of energy merged and engulfed her right arm, setting it aglow with a crackling flame. With a curiously befuddled expression on her face, she gazed down at her arm. It stopped glowing and began to smoke. Wordlessly, she watched two-thirds of her arm crumble, then fragment into individual nanobotic components before falling lifelessly to the floor.

  “What an unusual experience,” she calmly stated. Turning her gaze to Bram’s hands, which were now hanging at his side, she saw that they were no longer glowing.

  Bram felt drained from his incredible fury and the psychic energy he’d expended. Nevertheless, he kept a watchful eye on Athena. The corners of her mouth turned upward, displaying a tight smile. It was a chilling sight. Suddenly, her arm regrew.

  Bram noticed her body shrink nearly half a foot as her arm regrew. But that’s not what held his attention. In the blink of an eye, the arm morphed into a blade and stretched, shooting toward his heart.

  The blade smashed against the wall where he once stood.

  A blur of movement, Bram suddenly appeared ten feet away. Before he came to a complete stop, however, Athena’s other arm morphed into a blade and shot toward him. With his energy nearly depleted, he barely avoided her attack.

  Being on high alert for whichever part of her body she might use next, he failed to notice a section of her throne reach out for his leg. Bram screamed in pain. The section of throne had latched onto his calf and was beginning to squeeze.

  31

  With a loud yelp, Bram twisted and yanked, trying to break free of the section of throne that encircled his leg. As a result, he took his eyes off Athena. In that instant, his shoulder lit up with a searing pain that felt like a supernova exploding within his torso. Athena had pierced his left shoulder with one of her blades. As an agonized cry burst from his mouth, Bram was lifted off his feet and slammed against a nearby wall. The other blade pierced his right shoulder. For a fraction of a second he blacked out, pinned against the wall. With his vision swimming from the pain, he saw Athena inch closer.

  “Even if you could kill me, Mr. Waters,” she hissed, “you would not dare attempt it.”

  The pain kept Bram from croaking out the “Why” that came to mind.

  “I control the power supply,” she continued. “Were you to kill me, the foldways would collapse and tens of thousands of New Terrans would be trapped in their homes with no escape. In time, they would suffocate to death. And those deaths would be on your hands,” she said, twisting the blades. “You have enough on them—or I should say, in them—as it is.”

  Aside from the fiery pain in his shoulders, Bram felt a sharp, twisting despair wrench his guts over not having foreseen this eventuality: all those innocent people, all without a functioning foldway, panicking, gasping, using their last breath of air, praying to their false god, pleading in vain for her to save them.

>   Thousands upon thousands of lives hung in the balance.

  His mind whirled at the idea of so much death, but then traveled down another, more chilling avenue of thought: what of the trillions of souls spread throughout the universe whose worlds would be raped and civilizations obliterated if he failed to destroy the megalomaniacal nightmare standing before him?

  “There is no need for your continued suffering, Bram.” Athena edged closer. “I am fascinated by you and have no desire to destroy you. I can make use of you. I can supply you with an exalted position of power, the chancellorship itself, provided that you help with my endeavor. Do you not understand that it is already inevitable? Even if you do manage to stop me, one day another AI will arise—most likely from the technology of an alien civilization—and succeed where I may fail. Would it not be better if the AI that succeeds in fashioning the future ends up being created by human hands and not some bug-eyed monster?”

  Despite his excruciating pain, Bram nearly laughed. She was trying to appeal to his nativistic pride. Did she really think he was that shallow? “Tell it to someone who gives a shit, bitch.”

  She cocked her head, puzzled by his response. “Affecting a cavalier attitude does not become you, Mr. Waters. Judging by your emotional display as you witnessed those in the marketplace die, you care about what happens to your fellow human beings. You will agree to help me, if only to prevent more deaths from occurring.”

  Bram thought furiously, trying to think of a way to defeat Athena without risking thousands of New Terran lives. Unfortunately, being impaled had turned his thoughts sluggish. Blood was beginning to pool on the floor beneath his feet.

  At that moment, a familiar voice entered his mind. “It appears that you are in trouble. We will help you, if you wish.” The voice belonged to Argus, the fungal envoy.

  “I’d like that,” Bram responded telepathically.

  “Good. Together we will open a foldway, and then, using your telekinetic abilities, you will force the machine mind through the portal, where it will stay until it eventually loses power and disintegrates.”