Two clear doors slid open simultaneously and she stepped through to the sally port. The doors whooshed shut and spouts on the walls sprayed her with superheated particles. This was followed by a noxious gas that filled the room and covered her from head to toe. Celic was not concerned about the gas harming her, as her lungs were mere sensors designed to recognize various compositions of particles. The residue of the gas was meant to subdue any bio-life should it happen to escape. She hoped its contamination hadn’t seeped through the canister already.
Ether spoke to her. Hope?
This concept was unexplainable. Non-quantifiable. Humans used the word long ago. It was a concept that provided them no benefit at all. Celic knew that, outside, Mani would be scanning the room for any signs of infection.
“All clear!” Mani’s voice was linked to a speaker in her ear.
Good. No contamination. Perhaps there was still time. The second set of doors in the sally port opened into the Haz room. She grabbed the container from the box and set it on a central pedestal. Her gloved fingers pushed a button and a clear cover, with a central tube on top, enveloped it.
“Scan,” she said. Four light blue screens popped up in the air around the sample. The fruit fly was magnified. It flew inside the container, touched down on the side, and flew again. Each time it landed, it deposited more biological traces on the surface.
A voice from Sci-Central’s computer came in through her ear speaker. Canister breach in eight seconds.
She continued scanning as quickly as possible. The data had to be recovered. At the one-second mark, the tube above the canister pressed down and emitted a superheated flame. It melted the container, and the fruit fly disappeared in less than a second. The flame continued until scans of all biological contamination were gone. Sensors scanned once more. All clear.
“That was close,” Mani said. He almost sounded relieved. Strange that, since the absence of true humans, tech-life still clung to mimicking their emotions. The mimics were a method of communication that didn’t quite translate in the pure machine world. She found herself doing it as well sometimes, and wondered why. A slight frown to show something akin to disappointment when a particular experiment hadn’t worked out. A smile when things were going well. Even a hug when a colleague left for an assignment.
Celic wondered what other machines around the world did. How were their reactions to similar events during daily operations? Did they mimic their human makers, or did they use other methods to augment their communication? Were her kind limited by the human emotions they copied, or were they enhanced by them? It was a question buried deep within her databanks that she struggled to answer and yet kept to herself.
Why do you keep it to yourself? Ether’s voice again, with a question she didn’t know how to answer.
The decontamination chamber took a few extra seconds in order to ensure her suit was contaminant free.
“Wait, Celic.” Mani sounded nervous. “Decontaminate again.”
Severe heat. Noxious chemicals.
“Trace biological still present,” he said. “Your right arm. It’s spreading. Eating into the suit.”
Celic ran back into the Haz room and placed her arm on a platform attached to the wall.
Strange. My body is shaking. “Press the button, Mani. I can’t do it myself!”
In seconds, a saw came down from the ceiling and severed her arm. Her lubricants spilled out onto the floor.
“Get out of there, Celic. The entire room has to go.”
She sped to the doors and into the sally port. Her body was already compensating, stopping fluid flow, knitting her stump together. Behind her, the Haz room was engulfed in flame.
Her suit was scanned again. No contamination. Still, she shed the material and dumped it into the incinerator. With the push of a button it was reduced to ash. Mani scanned her once more. All clear.
When she came out, she verbally confirmed what Mani already knew. “Notify Rennick-514. If there’s one biological like that in the sector, there may be more.” She recalled the specimen came from near the Restricted Zone. “Tell Central Control he needs to explore farther past his perimeter. And send a message to the RZ. They may have a problem.”
Mani waved five of his hands at her in acknowledgement, and continued to punch a number of keys with the other. “The specimen was complex,” he said.
She came around to look at his screens. The picture of the fruit fly was enlarged in several places. Computers examined wings, thorax, eyes, and internal structures. The focus was magnified 4000x to 20,000x, presenting enlarged views of its cells. Not a nano design in sight.
That’s odd. The cell walls of the insect were dense. Denser than what she’d seen in biologicals before. Could that account for its superior resistance to transformation? And what about its extreme ability to contaminate?
“It’s good data,” Mani said. “We can get answers from this. Good job.”
Celic felt the corners of her mouth tilt up in an automatic smile. That response again. How strange. Mani smiled back at her, his teeth brilliantly white. For a moment it seemed like a genuine emotion, but she knew better. It was a simple communication between the two of them.
“Inform Rennick-514 to avoid all contact with further specimens,” she said. “Advise him not to collect. Report only.”
Guardian
A globular figure floated inside a large sphere, a room colored and shaped like the earth turned inside out. Mountains pointed toward the center. Oceans and continents covered the walls. There, the figure could map and track all that was occurring on the face of the planet. Tiny blips of fluorescent green, a warning of contamination. Little blips of red, here and there, showing biologicals recently destroyed.
One area in particular he’d taken great pains to hide. It lay beneath a façade on the map. Even though this was his private room, he kept it hidden just in case. An area in the hills of what was once called Virginia. He uncovered it to see a large circle of fluorescent green, and wondered how long he’d have access to this little private space of his. His own experiment. A personal secret.
Would they realize it was him? Perhaps. He was the Guardian. Even in that capacity, he couldn’t control all of the biologicals that formed. That was why the Picos created the sentries. Unfortunately, Rennick-514 had found a clue to the whereabouts of his secret. And his request to expand his perimeter into the RZ was recently approved.
The Guardian molded himself into a face well known to his current experiment. He became a man, in his forties, golden-brown eyes and black hair with flecks of gray. A thin tendril of wire emerged from his body and he flicked it in the air. A screen appeared floating in front of him and a picture came to life.
The house was clearly visible. Living plants and the trees surrounding it. The area was teeming with bio-life. He guided his view through the roof, to the ground floor, and there he found her. She was sitting at her computer. He sank into the device.
He thought the words that would come across to her as text.
Hello, Arta.
The girl’s eyes smiled back at him with what he interpreted as joy and delight.
She clicked letters on the keyboard. GoB! It’s so good to hear from you!
GoB experienced what humans might have called satisfaction and relief. For the moment, his project was safe. She was safe. But she was not going to remain that way much longer. Video chat?
She typed again. Sure!
He hoped she was ready for the things that were about to happen, because she didn’t have a choice.
Rennick-514
Rinnick-514 completed his power-up under the morning sun and ignored the extra canisters he had set aside last night. Observe and report only. Those were his orders. There was a sense of something he couldn’t explain welling inside him.
Excitement?
Ether’s questions again. Always questions. Never answers. He would be annoyed if he could feel annoyed. But there was no other explanation for the sense he w
as experiencing. He analyzed himself once more. His particles felt more energized. His muscles were well lubricated at the mere thought of expanding his perimeter. Perhaps it was time to give names to these things, these senses that Ether suggested.
Yes, he sent the answer back. Excitement.
The mere naming of the sense caused him to settle more, to feel . . .
Relaxed.
Not a question this time. A simple statement. And then that thing Ether had named disappeared and was replaced by something else he didn’t want a name for. So he pushed the thought away, and started his patrol.
Arta
It had been good to talk to GoB yesterday, but a little unsettling. Normally, he made jokes and told her funny stories. This time it was different. And now she didn’t know what to believe.
“Your parents can’t stay with you anymore,” he’d said. “Your bio-life is too strong.”
“You mean I’ll destroy them? But I haven’t touched them.” She held up her fingers in front of the screen as if they were evidence of her inability to harm anyone.
“Have you noticed anything on your recent walks in the forest? Where your feet touch the grass? Where your hands touch the trees?”
She had noticed. Just the other day, the silver grass had turned green instead of dying at the touch of her feet. The trunks of the trees had rippled for a second and then she’d actually smelled the warm earthy scent of the bark.
“Yes,” she said.
“You have become a grown woman. Seeds of life are within you. From now on, everything will change.” He blew her a kiss, and then the monitor went blank. She punched the keys. Checked the electrical socket. Her computer no longer worked, and she didn’t understand.
The next morning, on her way downstairs for some breakfast, Arta looked around the house for her mother, father, or brother. The house was empty. She looked outside and was surprised to find them standing together several feet away from the door.
“Mother! Father! Robby, I’ve got something to show you!”
They raised their hands in a perfunctory wave, turned around, and disappeared into the trees. Arta ran toward them, brushing against a tech-flower made of lush, velvety-red petals. No use. Her family was gone. GoB had warned her.
As she turned around to go back to the house, perfume filled her nostrils. The flower. It was vibrant. It was alive. A butterfly landed on it, and she watched as the tech-creature transformed, suddenly dipping its head into the opening of the flower. Arta could sense its delight.
She had no idea how long she stood there amazed, watching it interact with the flower, but suddenly she felt uneasy. It was similar to how she felt when her family had watched her, but more unnerving. She spun around. A tall silver figure, human in shape but very slender, stood motionless before her, almost camouflaged by the reflections of the forest on its skin. In front of its face was a screen. It seemed to be examining her.
She took a step closer to get a better look. There was nothing about it that made her feel any fear. It backed away but continued to scan her. She took another step, and he held out his hand.
“Stop. Do not approach.”
Its voice sounded masculine to Arta.
“What are you?” Her question was simple. But it—he—took a long time to answer.
“I am Rennick-514.” He paused. “I function as a sentry.”
“Why are you watching me?” She was fascinated by this sentry. For one thing, Rennick-514 had a lot more personality than her parents did. He exuded a complex fabric of emotion. Something she’d sensed with only one other person. GoB.
“To . . . to determine if you are . . . a threat.”
Arta couldn’t help it. Laughter burst from her harder than she’d ever experienced before. It was spontaneous, and miraculous at the same time. And the more she tried to stop, the harder she resumed her laugh.
Rennick-514 stopped scanning her, his screen disappearing in mid-air. He stood there quietly until her laughter subsided.
“Why do you . . . ?”
She felt an emotion from him. Something akin to confusion. Uncertainty.
“Laugh?”
He nodded.
“To imagine that I could be a threat to anything is extremely funny!” She started to giggle again, but managed to control herself a bit. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
Arta turned toward the house and motioned for him to follow. “Come on! Come see my house. You’ll really like it. We . . .” Her words left her throat. She swallowed. “You can scan everything here. I don’t mind.” Had she really been so lonely that spending time with this sentry was something she was willing to risk?
Yes. The thought popped into her head as if coming from somewhere outside her self. It didn’t happen often, but she’d read somewhere that it was called intuition. Another thought came to her, and she decided to listen.
She looked over her shoulder and held her hand out to him.
Rennick-514
Every Pico in Rennick-514’s body had trembled when his scanners detected not just a blip, but a visual field of fluorescent green. His alarms ordered him to retreat, and yet in front of him stood a fascinating creature, bending down, observing a butterfly and a flower just as intently as he was observing her. It was . . .
Beautiful.
Yes, Rennick-514 transmitted. Then the female had started talking to him. The sound of her voice took a few moments to interpret. Her sense, her . . .
Happiness.
Yes. This creature, this woman, was happy to see him. Invited him to come with her. His alarms fired more impulses into his head. His arms and legs twitched. Against protocol, he shut down the warning signals and followed her. He stepped on green grass, soft and moist beneath his feet. His body brushed against the flower she’d examined only moments ago. She stopped and her fingers stretched toward him. Mesmerized, he reached out and touched them.
The earth spun around him. His body shivered. Then the sensors in his nose caught the loveliest scent. His vision became blurry, and then water trickled from his eyes.
Guardian
It is time, GoB decided. His globular form stretched out and pressed invisible points in the air around the model of where Arta and Rennick-514 were located. His secret was not a secret anymore. All he could do was hope they survived. He could, at least, buy them time.
Thank you.
You are quite welcome, Ether. I care for them too, you know.
Yes. Her voice surrounded him and penetrated him simultaneously.
You’ll watch over her for me? GoB wanted to see the rest of Arta’s life. See her children and watch them grow.
Ether’s words filled him. You’re not going anywhere.
When they find me . . . A sadness overtook him. His greatest experiment. His greatest creations. He was a traitor to his world. Not worth recycling.
Then you’ll be with me. Her voice caressed him everywhere. It was filled with warmth, and he ached with pain and sudden longing.
Yes. He pushed a final button in the air and a crystalline structure started to form around the RZ. It dug deep into the earth and came together underneath it, engulfing the zone in a giant globe. Its own biosphere.
In the meantime, Ether’s words melded with him, becoming a strange and wonderful part of him. He shuddered with what he could only describe as ecstasy.
Let us explore these senses called emotions, she said, and search for something even more precious. Let us find—hope.
Querus Abuttu (Dr. Q.) is a novelist, short-story writer, editor, and lover of great fiction of all genres. Her first novel, Sapient Farm, can be found on Amazon.com, and is also available in Kindle and Audible formats. She is a member of the Horror Writers Association and suffers from multiple personality disorder, having written and edited several literary pieces under different pseudonyms. She maintains she is not delusional when plotting to usher her fantastical worlds into what some people drably declare is reality. And she is convinced it’s only a matter ofa quantum t
ime when she succeeds.
ABOUT THE EDITORS
Cin Ferguson
Cin Ferguson is a U.S. Navy veteran, retired from military service after twenty-eight years as a forensic nurse and certified nurse midwife. She earned her Ph.D. in Public Health while researching violence prevention and response on deployment in Afghanistan in 2010. Her MFA in writing popular fiction was earned from Seton Hill University, where she focused on writing horror and other dark science fiction. She is CEO of Scary Dairy Press LLC and is working on her second novel, Blood Lotus, which will debut in 2018.
Cin is a member of the Horror Writers Association (HWA), and currently lives in Virginia, alongside the James River on a cliff surrounded by millions of trees. This is her first anthology.
Broos Campbell
Broos Campbell has written or edited more than a dozen books, and has a particular interest in ships and the ocean. His Matty Graves novels concern the triumphs and disasters of a mixed-race American officer during the early years of the U.S. Navy. He’s currently working on a supernatural novel about a teenage girl trying to put her mother’s ghost to rest.
Broos lives in a small seaside city in Southern California, and finds it mildly disturbing to refer to himself in the third person.
AFFIRMATION OF COPYRIGHTS
“Bottom Trawler” ©2017 David Agranoff
“The Food Chain” ©2017 Edward Ahern
“Rusalka” ©2017 James Dorr
“It Wants to be a Swamp” ©2017 C. S. Malerich
“Bride of the Deep” ©2017 Karissamae Masters
“Snickerdoodle Bunkum” ©2017 J.C. Raye
“From the Bluff” ©2017 Jan Rittmer
“Sleet Teeth” ©2017 Goran Sedler
“Miracle Material” ©2017 Abra Staffin-Wiebe
“Downpour” ©2017 Lisa Timpf
“Midwives” ©2017 Tiffani Angus
“A Choice in Exile” ©2017 Stephen M. Coghlan
“Swarms” ©2017 James Dorr
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