Authors: Jonathan Davison
Dark Phase
DARK PHASE
by
Jonathan Davison
Copyright 2011 by Jonathan Davison.
All rights reserved.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
About the author
Jonathan Davison was born near Portsmouth, England in 1975. He lives with his wife Mandi in Newton Abbot, Devon. Jonathan began writing in earnest in 2010. He is also a musician and writer of radio drama and musical theatre. He currently works as a technical specialist for the police.
Previous novels by Jonathan Davison
The Observer (2010)
In Space No One Can Hear You Rock (2011)
Sanctuary (2011)
Dedicated to Jen
with whom I torment with endless manuscripts and give so little in return - thank you
PROLOGUE
*
_
00000000000 'fatal error' 00000000000
54681351 e code 136-956 'power interrupt!'
41886844 e code 54-36 'core temp warning!'
753351 'run emergency save protocol'
4643654>'could not complete'
8543843 'archive session timed out'
# 'reboot services'...
_
0000 'unknown exception' 0000
*** 'could not run service' ***
***'fatal exception – network drives'***
***'run primary command protocols'***
***'some data may be missing or corrupt – define primary command protocols?'***
_
_
***'time out – awaiting command'***
***'network integrity 29%'***
***'define primary command protocols?'***
_
1. maintain core integrity
2. protect and preserve organic life
3. command corrupted – exception #4568
4. protect archive data integrity
5.command corrupted – exception #2455
*** 'primary command protocols could not be validated – could not proceed' ***
_
-
*** 'override code 1 1A 2 2B'***
***' validate primary command protocols?'***
_
000000000110111111100111111110000110000011101101011101011000000000000100000101011111111111100000000001001000000001010000111010100000000011110001011000110011000000000110111111100111111110001000
*
***' primary command protocols have been redefined' ***
***'user mode disabled'***
CHAPTER 1
Sarazen awoke, the warm glow of his rising core temperature stirring his form into a state of conscious awareness. The dark oblivion of the downtime subsided and a soft welcoming light penetrated the blackness of his visual field. The haze lasted only a few moments as clarity gradually prevailed. Sarazen brought his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as the light of the new morning streamed through the window. The light phase had encouraged the renewed flow of Vitalin around his cold, silent form and the feeling of resumed functionality always offered a curious blend of satisfaction and mild irritation.
Sarazen arched his spine and stretched his arms high above his head before looking down to his abdomen where the network feed to The Mother protruded from his belly at an awkward ninety degree angle. Sarazen flexed his fingers and gripped the shiny metallic hose, twisting it and pulling it away from his body. The thick flex of cable detached with a satisfying click and on release, slithered softly and silently into the network node at the side of Sarazen's pod. He looked down at the gaping orifice in his side and picked and flicked a small piece of fluff away from the slowly closing hole. The time had long passed where he would stoop down to investigate what bits and pieces resided within the port, poking his fingers inside like a curious 'vacant', fresh from The Mother's birthing line.
Sarazen stepped down from the pod and sleepily shuffled towards the morning light which bathed his living space in a hazy wash of warmth. The beams of light revealed a thin cloud of floating dust particles which never seemed to fall. Sarazen cocked his head to one side and swiped his hand through the cloud playfully and watched the swirling maelstrom which ensued. It was the subtleties of his existence which drew long lingering moments of deep thought and quiet contemplation. Sarazen stood at the large round window and observed, as he always did in the morning, the ubiquitous and vital radiance of the giant Star which burned so fiercely in the sky. He opened up his hands to grasp the warmth, for it was the power of the light which enabled the silicants to be. Sarazen believed that the other silicants took the constancy of the morning light for granted, and as he entered the down time each night, it did not pass him by that if the Star did not reappear, then he would never awake from the vacuous emptiness of sleep. Beneath the searing dominance of the Star, a burgeoning metropolis cut into the horizon. As the dark phase drew to a close, the city and its inhabitants awoke as one, as they too revelled in the power of the new light.
Sarazen
was one of the newer models and designed as a 'troubleshooter'. It was his primary function to know how the silicants worked, inside and out. He was comfortable in his body; he understood it well, but not as completely as he knew the predecessors. The silicants of the past, some of whom remained functioning still, were perfectly adapted to their tasks. When the time came and the troubleshooters could do no more, they would return to The Mother for adaptive reconstruction or as the silicants termed it, 'renewal'. Each silicant was a product of their destiny, supremely honed to pursue their given 'career' to the optimal level. When the performance level dropped off and service updates no longer had the required effect...that was it. Out of date silicants served no further purpose and were 'renewed'.
Sarazen turned to see his companion, who always seemed to be slower to resume her functionality from the down time, as she awoke and plucked the feed line from her torso. Sarazen watched over her dutifully as she made the transition. He gained pleasure from this, and although he could not understand why, it was something he would do without fail every morning.
“
Morning Keera.” Sarazen spoke softly as she looked up to see her fine companion bathed in the light of the window.
“
Morning Sarazen.” Keera replied with a soft, dulcet tone. There was warmth in her voice, gentle and meek.
“
Oh my. Look at the dust.” Keera said as she noticed the swirling, glistening atmosphere.” I will attend to that immediately,” she continued. Not that it was Sarazen's wish, Keera was conceived as a Homemaker. It was her 'career' to provide for her companion a safe, stable and sanitary environment so that he could perform his duties to the highest standard. Keera gained as much satisfaction removing dust as Sarazen did when he repaired an ailing 'farmer' or 'administrator'.
“
No, Keera. I would prefer to spend a little time with you before I go to work. There is plenty of time for sanitising later after I have gone.” Sarazen walked over to Keera and took her hand and with his thumb, stroked the tight, immaculate weave of her skin. Keera looked up to her tall, lean companion and smiled. The Mother had indeed chosen her partner well. She could not have asked for a more perfect mate.
“
I will ma
ke you a delicious breakfast.” she said, her voice breathy and comforting.
“
That would be most welcome,
” Sarazen replied, revelling in the thought as he watched the curiously alluring form of his companion shuffle off to the kitchen unit. Sarazen walked across their living space which was small yet homely. He sat on the large chair and looked around him, regarding the large screen which flickered into life and the pointless yet somehow comforting figurines which adorned some immaculately sanitised shelves. The visual screen was once again an addition which barely seemed necessary. Visual data was so slowly collated, the 'umbilical' to The Mother every night allowed data capture and sharing at a significantly enhanced rate. Again however, the allure of the moving image was somehow satisfying to behold. Scenes invariably included visual data recorded of the organics. They were fascinating to watch, often soothing and occasionally exciting. Their life patterns were so alien to the silicants yet they were themselves entrusted to be the custodians of these primitive forms. The organics seemed to offer little in return for the silicants’ guardianship, they just continued to proliferate and adapt in increasingly mesmerising and illogical ways. The organics’ existence patterns baffled Sarazen.
With every passing cycle, the organics would ingest and excrete much like the silicants, however, the growth, reproductive and reconstruction phase offered more questions than answers. The reproductive phase was disorganised and flawed. The organics did not appear to require The Mother in order to procreate. This was in itself befuddling as The Mother was the centre of all things. The organics growth and reconstruction phase happened so slowly and inefficiently. When vital functions finally ceased, the corporeal form of the organic would be ingested by micro-organisms which in turn perpetuated the cycle. When silicants returned to The Mother for adaptive reconstruction, the process would take a matter of cycles. However, this was a mystery in itself and a taboo subject. When the time came, all silicants would eventually return to The Mother to be renewed into another model. They would then pursue a new career depending on what was required at the time.
“
I have your breakfast, Sarazen,” Keera said as she stood before him holding a tray and interrupting Sarazen's cogitation.
“
Wonderful,
” Sarazen replied smiling, gratefully taking hold of the tray and proceeding to study its contents. It was of little surprise that a vessel of phosphorylin adorned the breakfast tray, as it did every cycle. It was the staple requirement for all silicants in order to function smoothly without unfortunate defects. The silicant’s body was a marvel of The Mother's creation. The silicants were conceptually brilliant, yet also aesthetically pleasing. Apart from the requirement of regular intake of phosphorylin and the nightly feed from The Mother, the silicants could maintain functionality autonomously for hundreds of thousands of cycles. Each individual was tuned to a specific task but always shared roughly the same form. Two appendages carried the bulk of their bodies and provided limited movement, two upper appendages allowed more complex dexterous physical tasks. A head contained the core computational functions and facilitated sensory data input. The torso provided network access, and other regulatory functions. As a troubleshooter, Sarazen understood the complexities of the silicant form, yet there were always queries and irregularities which Sarazen could not fully comprehend. The silicant form often felt restrictive and limited in relation to its cognitive abilities, however, at this time Sarazen felt no need to trouble himself over the minutia of the collective existence. He had much more important duties to perform.