Enemy (45 page)

     He looked up, eyes flickering in the light of the static-filled displays. “The chamber… I have to get back to the pattern chamber.”

     “What? Why do you—?”

     “Someone… Just take me to the chamber.”

     They went.

     “I don’t believe it.”

     “There’s two patterns in the buffer. We need to rescue them.”

     Michael looked at Richter with a mixture of trust and suspicion. Who was this man from the past? He turned to a technician. “Download the patterns. Print them.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     Michael touched Richter’s shoulder, and they moved from the assemblage of technicians. “Do you know what this is all about? Do you know who they are?”

     “I think so.”

     “Can we trust them?”

     Richter nodded slowly and sadly. “They’re more important to preventing the Purpose than either of us.”

     “Who are they? How could they have—”

     “Quiet. He’s coming around.”

     “Their patterns aren’t in the registry. They could be one of the—”

     “They aren’t machine code. I know them.”

     “How could you possibly—”

     Richter motioned for Michael’s silence. There were two people in the download chamber, a man and a woman. Both appeared to be sleeping. The woman’s lower body had been badly wounded, her midsection torn apart. She was bleeding profusely. Richter bent to pick up a black shard of metal from the chamber interior next to the woman. It was Enemy armor.

     The man was coming around slowly. His eyes lazily opened, tried to focus, failed. He weakly attempted to get up, but fell back into the chamber. Richter reached out, gently touched the man’s forehead and cheek.

     “Solid enough for now, but there was a lot of signal degradation in the transfer.”

     “But how could you know them?”

     Richter turned, gazed icily at Michael with silver eyes.

     “I told them they’d get here eventually. I never expected them to arrive so soon. This wasn’t a part of the plan.”

     The man in the chamber sluggishly tried to get up again, collapsed from exhaustion. He tried to speak, failed. The woman remained ominously silent.

     “I know them because they came from the same world I escaped from. They’re monsters, just like me.”

     The man in the chamber frowned, but he was too weak to summon the strength to say anything. Richter leaned down, whispered into his ear.

     “Welcome to heaven, Simon Hayes.”

     Simon fell back into the void.

     “Simon. And the woman was Maggie Flynn. That’s why you let go.”

     Zero-Four looked at and through the floor. “That’s why I let go.”

     West exhaled slowly, shook his head. “Time’s a cycle, and we’re all trapped within it.”

     Patra’s face was a confused canvas of emotion. She touched the matte black surface of the vessel interior. “This is what he became. Simon did this for Maggie.”

     Zero-Four nodded gravely. “We had to upload Maggie to save her, but Simon… He could’ve remained behind. He could’ve lived as a physical, but he chose to join us. It was the only way that he could stay with Maggie. He gave up the rest of his life for her.”

     The chamber descended into a silence of reverence and gravity, the realization of the paradoxes within which they were caught.   

     “That’s about the extent of the story. We abandoned the planet, led by Richter. Our fleet was miniscule compared to the ocean of silver that was the machines. They fell upon the system with a fury and hunger that we’d never seen before.

     “We made a pact, a covenant. Richter’s visions taught us that there could be no turning back in this war. No surrender, no prisoners, no compromise. We’d have to strike where we could, and aim for the kill every time. Our war would be fought in the void between the stars and the space between the synapses. Our Enemy was endless and infinite… Incomprehensible in size and power. Uploaded into the program, we’d chase the Enemy as they tore through time, and we’d attempt to prevent them from uploading the times that they infected.

     “Their god Omega knew of our presence from the very beginning, from the very first viral insertion. The Enemy pledged to hunt us down and destroy our patterns before we could prevent their upload of all that was real. We pledged our heresy; we became the Judas.”

     “And you’ve been chasing them for how long?”

     “Longer than anyone can remember, Patra. We’re eternal here in the shift, in the Judas program. I must have seen thousands of Whens fall to the Black, but still we persevere. Still we strike, and we fight to the death. I’ve been fighting forever. But if I don’t fight, then they have won already. If I don’t fight, my pattern is theirs.”

     “You’re a Judas.”

     “I’m a Judas.”

     The sun was rising, a faded mockery of the sun he had once known. He knew with daylight that this would end. He knew that this was a dream. He knew the woman pressed against him had died two tragic, terrible deaths. He knew that she was not really there. He knew that she was gone.

     She moved against him, the steady pattern of her breath for an instant interrupted by a pause that indicated sleep’s impending departure. She took a deep breath and Simon knew that she was awakening. He held her so tightly, and his eyes flooded with hot tears.

     “Mmmmhh… Simon…”

     He pressed his face against Maggie’s warm, smooth skin. He whispered into her ear, a calm, reassuring voice that she had no reason to fear or suspect.

     “Shh… Go to sleep, Maggie. Everything’s gonna be all right. Go back to sleep.”

     She squeezed him and muttered a sleep-muddled phrase that could only be “I love you” and fell back into her slumber. He choked back the tears but his body wracked with his sorrow.

     The sun was rising.

     “Sleep, Maggie. Go to sleep, sweet Maggie.”

     He kissed her lightly on the lips, soft enough so that she did not awaken, but hard enough so that the lifetimes he had lived and the pain of her death was even if for only an instant replaced with the beauty and hope that his life had once held.

     It is time.

     sleep, maggie.

     He opened his eyes.

     Static. A sudden crackle, a momentary distortion, and the faintest flash of light.

     ((reweb judas golgotha simon. command sentience reweb initiated. clearance pattern?))

     Zero-Four could not hide his happiness. He smiled widely at the sound of Simon’s voice. He turned, and projected in the center of the chamber was the familiar translucent image of his dearest friend. Patra turned to West, and a silent communication passed between them. The image in the center of the chamber was the man that they had seen at Diablo.

     “Clearance Zero-Four, Michael.”

     ((what’s the situation?))

     They rejoiced.

Malachi.

     The Mujahadin floated silently in the void. Watching.

     Waiting.

     He had sent a beacon into the future.

     PREDATOR BECOMES PREY. PREY BECOMES PREDATOR.

     Now he waited... Shiva would arrive soon. Alone. The traitor Simon would have been dealt with. When Shiva rejoined him, they could begin the hunt once more, and destroy the Enemy once and for all.

     But oh, the temptation...

     He watched the Black swarm across this When, breaking it down to fuel the damned Purpose. He fought the constant urge to release himself from this torture, to open up, to unleash his inferno upon the damned, but if he let his presence be known, it would jeopardize the mission. So he would wait for Shiva to join him, and they would access the situation together, prepare a plan of action for the vast Judas armada when it arrived. The Purpose was so close... Time was indeed dying. This When would be the jumping-off point for the final battle. This time, the Judas would retake the Alpha Point, and the physical universe would be saved before the Enemy could upload it for Omega.

     But oh, the temptation. The blood lust.

     He watched the Enemy in the night.

     He waited for Shiva.

     He never saw the Black strike force as it re-entered the Stream, the same strike force that destroyed Shiva and now tore across time toward Command. The Black had made sure that the Judas they knew was somewhere out there watching them would not see the force’s departure by masking it as yet another routine pattern load transfer. The ruse had indeed worked.

     Malachi floated in the silence, in the blackness, unsuspecting.

     hatred personified

     a banshee’s wail of anguished ecstasy.

     the black.

     THE HUNT PROCEEDS. ONE JUDAS NEUTRALIZED. ONE JUDAS SHADOWED: STREAM TETHER SEVERED. NEGATIVE PATTERN AUGMENTATION: CACHE CORRUPTED. MINIMAL DAMAGE TO OUR FORCES. EXTRAPOLATION OF JUDAS TRANSMISSION HAS YIELDED PROBABLE COMMAND COORDINATES AND VIRAL CODE PROBABILITIES. VECTOR IS MAINTAINED. WE WILL SUCCEED. THEY HAVE BETRAYED THEMSELVES.

    
FIRST STRIKE((?))

     A CERTAINTY. THE BLASPHEMOUS VIRUS WILL BE ELIMINATED. THE PURPOSE WILL BE COMPLETED.

    
HOW PROCEEDS THIS WHEN((?))

     STAR COLLAPSE INITIATED. HARVEST UPLOAD COMPLETION IMMINENT.

    
PURPOSE BE.

     the black closes.

     A darkened corridor. Footsteps.

     “Halt. Security clearance?”

     A brilliant flash; a cry of pain and cessation. Running.

     “Which one is it? Where is he?”

     “Block A Cell 7. Hurry!”

     Another flash. A heavy door reluctantly cycles open.

     “What the—How—”

     “No questions now, sir. Our vessels are waiting. Please hurry!”

     They slipped into the maze of black corridors.

     The rescue was successful.

     Reynald.

     “Simon! We thought you were gone!”

     ((forgive me, michael. the emergency shadow break severed the pattern tether, and the bioneural interface went into overload. i had no choice but to close down.))

     “Simon, why’d you Shadow break?”