Profusion

by Stan C. Smith

  “I did die, when I fell. Like what you saw. But the Lamotelokhai didn’t make me a new body.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There wasn’t enough time. So the Lamotelokhai just activated my consciousness without putting it anywhere.”

  Her eyes showed a little more fear.

  “It activated me within its own particles. Ashley, I’m inside the Lamotelokhai. I am the Lamotelokhai.”

  Her eyes got wide. She shook her head slightly, like she was rejecting what she’d just heard. “Don’t mess with me, Bobby.”

  “I’m not, I swear.”

  “Okay, prove it.”

  Bobby looked at his hand. He was actually shaking, so he made it stop. He looked over the seats in front of them to make sure no one was up and moving around the cabin. He shut his eyes and created a vision in his mind of what he wanted to do. It was something he’d seen the Lamotelokhai do once. He opened his eyes and looked at Ashley. “Don’t freak out on me, okay?”

  She nodded. In her eyes he now saw nothing but fear.

  He reached across his body with his left hand and detached his right arm below the elbow. He placed the arm on his lap, where it began to change. He looked at Ashley. Her face had lost all expression. And color. She stared at the arm. By the time Bobby looked back at his lap, the change was almost complete.

  The arm had become a creature, which was laying on its side. It rolled onto its feet and turned toward Ashley. It had dark fur, speckled with short white quills. It had no tail, but on the other end its nose stuck out from its face like a finger. At the base of this long nose were two tiny black eyes. After looking up at Ashley for a few seconds, it gathered its hind feet beneath it and stood up. It held its stubby, clawed paws out to her and then began moving them. It signed a message with the same sign language gestures used by the mbolop. The message basically meant, “Ashley make world good.”

  Bobby didn’t know if she understood the message, but that didn’t really matter. “It’s an echidna,” he said. “It was in the Lamotelokhai’s database, just like the snow geese and sailfish I created to stop the outbreak.”

  She looked up at him. “You? You made those?”

  “I had some help from the Lamotelokhai. It’s here in this body with me.” He pointed to his chest with his only remaining hand.

  “Bobby, I don’t…”

  He picked up the echidna and held it against his stub. It attached and transformed back into his right arm. “I was afraid to tell you.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “Have we ever kissed before?” she asked. “Before today?”

  “Yes. On the plane to Los Angeles. Before it crashed and we all died.”

  “What did you say to me after we kissed?”

  “It was stupid, but I said, ‘You kissed me.’ Ashley, it’s really me.”

  She reached over and pinched the skin on his neck. She pulled on the long hair growing from above his ear.

  He waited, giving her time to process everything. “I was afraid to tell you,” he said again. “I want to be with you, and who would want to be with someone who’s not even human?”

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  “What?”

  She waited.

  Bobby leaned over and kissed her. The tips of their tongues touched for a split second. He then sat back and watched her.

  “You don’t feel any different.”

  “I can make my body exactly the way it used to be, with blood and muscles and skin. I can keep it that way all the time if you want.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, without a doubt.”

  “And there’s another thing. I met one of the aliens who created the Lamotelokhai. Its consciousness is also inside the data that’s in here. It said it would talk to me occasionally. Maybe teach me things. I thought you should know that, too.”

  She shook her head. And then she nodded. “I think I can live with this.”

  It was Bobby’s turn to be shocked. He couldn’t think of anything useful to say. “Really?”

  She nodded again. Then she snorted a nervous laugh. “My boyfriend’s a bunch of particles made by extinct aliens. Big deal.”

  Bobby let out a long breath. He took Ashley’s hand and leaned back, staring at nothing.

  The Lamotelokhai spoke in his head. “Bobby, your behavior is unpredictable and interesting.”

  “Not now,” he said silently. “I’d kind of like to just sit and rest for a while.”

  He then closed his eyes, listening to the air moving in and out of his lungs and feeling the blood pump through his body.

  Thirty-one

  Nine Months Later

  As the sun rose gradually over the horizon, shafts of light pierced the transparent panels over Mbaiso’s new forest and were redirected in all directions at once, creating mesmerizing, multi-colored effects on the treetops and the support beams above. Butterflies, moths, bees, and other insects caught the shafts of light, creating a dancing halo over the canopy.

  Having spent considerable time and effort climbing to the highest accessible beam in his new forest, Mbaiso lay with his belly against the beam’s cool metal, legs hanging off the sides. It was an ideal place to take in a remarkable view of the sunrise from above the entire forest.

  As the sun rose higher, it illuminated the network of hanging tunnels and chambers strung throughout the canopy. They connected every tree in the entire forest, and they were so extensive that visiting them all would take Mbaiso years. The hanging tunnels and chambers had been made by the humans—as were the trees for that matter—and they were much safer than those that Addison had created for Mbaiso’s first colony. Mbaiso’s new forest consisted of 6,000 colonies, all of them sturdily constructed and producing new mbolop at a rate he had never imagined possible. The mbolop in his new forest had food, water, and unlimited raw materials for production. But most importantly, they had a purpose—to assist humans. This was the same purpose Mbaiso had carried out for thousands of years, ever since the creator had formed him from its own particles.

  Finally, Mbaiso stretched and pushed himself up onto his feet on the beam. He liked to spend the early hours of each day engaged in activities of amusement, and today was no exception. Perhaps this morning he would successfully defeat his most recent challenge. With his tail against the juncture of wall and domed ceiling behind him, he gazed out along the length of the beam, which stretched across the entire width of the forest. He couldn’t quite see the other end of the beam, but he knew it stopped at the far wall because he had successfully made it there once before. The beam was barely the width of his body. If it were any wider, it would not have presented an adequate challenge.

  He lifted himself onto his hind legs and started hopping toward the far end of the beam. Having the body structure of a tree kangaroo, Mbaiso was more suited to running than hopping. But, again, he liked a challenge.

  He increased his velocity until he was covering three body lengths with each hop, being careful on each launch to avoid applying too much pressure with one foot, which could nudge him to one side—each hop had to be straight ahead. When he got to the first connected truss, he leapt over it and landed squarely on the beam on the other side. But several hops after that, one of his hind feet slipped over the side, sending him careening so far from the beam that he didn’t even touch it as he came down. He fell through empty space to the canopy, bounced off a hanging tunnel, and continued falling until he struck the ground beside a human-made stream.

  When his consciousness reactivated, Mbaiso lay there next to the flowing water, waiting for his ruptured organs and fractured bones to mend. It was a waste of valuable time. Not only that, but he was unable to reassure the other mbolop that had gathered to stare at him, so it was a waste of their valuable time as well.

  When his body was finally repaired, he got up and signed to the onlookers that he was fine. They did not understand the concept of leisure time or activities of amusement. It had taken Mbaiso centuries to develop a taste for s
uch activities. As soon as their bodies and identities were fully developed, they would be loaded into human-made transport containers and taken elsewhere to pair up with their own humans.

  Mbaiso looked up through the canopy at the beam far above. He would try again tomorrow morning. And the morning after that, if he felt like it.

  Thirty-two

  Two Months Later

  Mid-morning was Quentin’s favorite time of day to relax at their home beside the Sittee River in the Stann Creek District of Belize. It was past the early-morning activity of local fishermen in their tiny wooden boats, but it was before the hottest part of the day. Not only that, but Bobby, Ashley, and Addison were required to work on their homeschool projects at this time. Every morning at 10:00, an alarm on Quentin’s watch reminded him to stop what he was doing and go to his favorite chair on the patio in their backyard, where he would read a book. Or talk to Lindsey about nothing important. Or just watch the river in peaceful silence.

  But today the kids weren’t working on their projects, and the backyard wasn’t quiet at all, because Peter and Rose were here, a special occasion. Rose had recently turned eighty-four, and they had come to celebrate with Quentin’s family.

  With Peter and Rose sitting beside him, Quentin watched the others fooling around in the yard. Addison had convinced Lindsey, Ashley, and Bobby to play one of his numerous made-up games. Most of these games involved rules and activities that gave Addison an advantage. This one was no exception, as it seemed to involve climbing trees. Addison also seemed to be benefitting from having Newton’s help as a second pair of eyes. But Lindsey also had a second pair of eyes in Rusty, and she seemed to be giving Addison a run for his money. Quentin had never developed this capability with Plato, and as far as he knew, nobody else had developed this kind of connection with their mbolop. In Mbaiso’s master plan, Addison and Lindsey had apparently been guinea pigs, the first two human-mbolop pairings. Mbaiso then must have altered the configuration of all future pairings. Considering Quentin had seen Lindsey run into walls while she had been distracted by Rusty’s vision, he was fine with not having the capability.

  “Peter,” Rose said, “tell Quentin the news about your roobot factory.”

  “Yes, of course,” Peter said. “We’ve broken ground on a second dome. Southeast of Brisbane. It will be identical to the first—four square kilometers, same configuration of artificial trees and hanging chambers. And the same production schedule, producing another 36,000 roobots per day.”

  “You’re calling them roobots now?”

  Rose smiled. “I believe someone in Canada coined the word. They’re more similar to living creatures than to machines, but the name rolls off the tongue easier than mbolop.”

  Peter went on. “Even once we’ve doubled production to 72,000 per day, it will require over 200 years to create roobots for everyone. And that’s assuming the human population doesn’t continue to grow. Clearly, we’ll need to continue expanding beyond two domes.”

  “But many folks are impatient,” Rose added. “Particularly wealthy folks. Our policy of randomly distributing the roobots enrages them.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Quentin said. People had been on edge since Puerto Rico, terrified that it might happen again. And pairing with an mbolop was the only way to become immune to any malign influence of Lamotelokhai particles. Mbaiso and Sinanie’s tribe had been correct—the mbolop were destined to save as many people as possible.

  Quentin gazed at Rose. She was now eighty-four, the same age as Peter. But Peter had stopped aging when he was forty-one, when he’d stumbled upon the hanging village and the Lamotelokhai in Papua. Rose, on the other hand, truly was eighty-four years old, in body and mind. But today she was more animated than usual, and she had a certain sparkle in her eyes.

  “By the way, happy birthday,” Quentin said.

  She smiled again. “Bless your heart. Until this point in my life, I have dreaded every birthday as a sign of growing older. But I believe I may no longer feel such dread from this point on.”

  “You’ve been treated with Lamotelokhai particles!”

  “A lump of clay arrived unexpectedly by post a few months ago,” Peter said. “With a handwritten note from the Lamotelokhai itself.”

  They all paused and looked out into the yard at Bobby. He was staring back at them as if he had known they were going to look. He smiled broadly.

  Peter continued. “It was a gift for Rose. A replacement gift, actually, as I had lost a similar lump of clay it had given me in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.”

  “I was quite skeptical to begin with,” Rose said. “But as you know, Peter can be persuasive. And when he introduced me to Romulus,” she nodded to her mbolop lounging by her feet, “I began to see beyond my wide-eyed fear of the Lamotelokhai. As you and Lindsey now know yourselves, the Lamotelokhai is not inherently malignant or vindictive. It has wondrous gifts to offer, although it must be handled with care.” She gazed down at her withered hands. “At eighty-four, I’m a bit late to the party, I suppose. Nevertheless, I’m quite grateful.”

  This was followed by a moment of silent reflection. Rose would stop aging now, but she could never become young again. The Lamotelokhai’s particles had not entered her body when she had been younger, and therefore they had no template from which to rebuild.

  “Then this truly is an occasion to celebrate,” Quentin said, and he raised his glass of the mango cordial Lindsey had made earlier that morning. “To the expansion of roobot production, and especially to the health of the lovely Rose Wooley.” They clinked glasses and drank.

  Lindsey approached and plopped down in her chair beside them, red-faced and panting from the game. “I saw that—looks like I have some catching up to do.” She took a long drink.

  “Bobby and Ashley seem to be getting on well,” Peter said.

  Lindsey shook her head. “We honestly didn’t think it would last this long. I suppose there have been stranger pairings before.”

  Peter chuckled. “I doubt that seriously.”

  They all turned and silently watched the teens, each of them likely considering their own take on the bizarre romance.

  Addison was high in a tree beside the river bank, imploring Ashley and Bobby to climb up with him. Apparently he wanted them all to jump from the tree into the water. Wisely, at least for Ashley’s sake, they were refusing.

  Addison seemed happy enough, although occasionally he had wandered off the property and scared the hell out of locals passing by on the road. Mentally, he was a normal sixteen-year-old, with a normal set of memories. But he also had a second set of memories blended in, of living as a child-like creature for eight months with a colony of tree kangaroos. Physically, though, he was frighteningly powerful and fast, which was exactly why he continued to reject any suggestion of changing back to his previous human form. He liked feeling powerful—perhaps he needed that feeling.

  Lindsey asked Peter, “Have you heard from Georgia lately?”

  “She’s doing well,” Peter said. “We recently assisted her in procuring a certificate to practice law in Australia, and she is setting up a practice in Brisbane. In fact, Rose helped her choose the location and prepare it for occupancy. They have become tight friends.”

  Rose looked at Peter. “Georgia spent the night with my husband in a confined space. I’m simply keeping a close eye on my competition.” She and Peter both laughed. Apparently they had joked about this more than once. She turned back to Lindsey. “Georgia is a lovely girl. The poor thing lost her family and everyone she’d ever known in Puerto Rico.”

  Peter cleared his throat and glanced at his smartwatch. “Speaking of Puerto Rico, I must confess there is another reason we have come to see you fine folks. If you don’t mind, I’d like your whole family to hear what I have to say.”

  Quentin exchanged a glance with Lindsey. He then called out to the teens. Addison leapt from the tree, dropped at least twenty feet, and landed on all fours beside Bobby. He then stood upright, and the
three of them came over to the patio.

  “What’s up?” Ashley asked.

  “Please sit,” Peter said.

  The kids all took a seat around the patio table.

  Peter leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “First I’ll provide a news update on Puerto Rico. I know you folks limit your news intake these days, but some of what I’ll tell you is not readily available information anyway. As you may know, the island is locked in continuous litigation. The initial inclination of US military leaders was to systematically exterminate every creature on the island, to make it safe to inhabit again. This was met with outcries worldwide, from human rights, animal rights, and environmentalist groups. Some claim the creatures there were once human and therefore have human rights. Some claim the creatures represent a plethora of new species, and even long-extinct species, and therefore they should be protected. Some groups have talked seriously of making the entire island a national park, or a massive memorial to the three and a half million who died there. On the other hand, some have talked of making it a hunting resort for the wealthy.”

  “You’re kidding,” Lindsey said.

  Peter shook his head. “And that’s only the beginning. It may be years before the US decides what to do with it. Now, here is the information you probably don’t already know. While Puerto Rico has been stuck in legal limbo, US Army Special Forces units have been combing the island for human survivors. They have rescued only a few thousand people, which is a sobering reminder of the massive death toll. It is also, however, a reminder that Georgia and I were quite lucky to survive.” He looked at Bobby. “If we hadn’t found you at the compound, we would not have made it out.”

  Bobby nodded. He looked down at the table for a moment. “But you have more to tell us.”

  “I do,” Peter said. “Some Special Forces units have recently returned with reports of rather interesting developments—transformed creatures that have banded together in groups, for example. It seems some of the creatures are much more intelligent than others. Perhaps even approaching human-like intelligence.”