Post-Human Series Books 1-4 (47 page)

5

I
n a lab next door to sick bay, the doctor tied a rubber band above Thel’s bicep while Lieutenant Patrick looked on.

“Thel,” Lieutenant Patrick began, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Thel asked as the doctor soaked a cotton ball with alcohol and swabbed it over Thel’s skin. “That won’t be necessary,” she said to the doctor.

The doctor paused for a moment, his brow knitted, until the realization hit him and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment. You are super human. No infection for you.” He grabbed his syringe and began to draw blood. Thel winced a bit with the pain, but the nans automatically released painkillers into her system and it was dulled significantly.

“I...I just wanted to say sorry for your loss,” Lieutenant Patrick said.

Thel immediately felt uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to react—she was still in shock about losing Old-timer. Somehow, it didn’t feel real. “Thank you,” she managed to say.

“I was always taught in school that post-humans were...an abomination,” he said. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he smiled at the absurdity.

Thel smiled too. “We were taught that about Purists.”

That made Lieutenant Patrick laugh. He shook his head. “They told us post-humans were corrupt, individualistic, selfish...but you and your friends have done nothing but try to help us. Thank you.”

The doctor withdrew his syringe. “I think we have a large enough sample,” he said.

As he stepped away, Thel put her hand on Lieutenant Patrick’s shoulder. “You’d do the same for us.”

She stood up and turned to the doctor. “Now, let’s separate the nans. We have to hurry. Alejandra doesn’t have much time.”

6

Ou
tside of the ship, Rich and Djanet walked across the hull toward the engines. The sun shone brilliantly as the ship moved closer and closer to the life-giving orb. When they reached the engines, they saw the extent of the damage that the androids had caused.

“We were lucky,” Rich said as he touched the largest section of twisted metal. “They were about a minute from breaking through the insulation and getting to the wiring underneath.”

Djanet surveyed the destruction of the belly of the ship. As she performed a slow 360-degree turn, she saw hundreds of pockmarks on the ship hull. “We
were
lucky,” Djanet agreed.

“When we land on Venus, we’ll need to protect the entire ship with a magnetic field, or else these holes will superheat, and we’ll come apart on reentry,” Rich commented.

Djanet nodded in reply. She was trying to think of the right words. She was never one for words. “Rich,” she began—but she couldn’t continue.

He looked up at her from one knee, then stood when he saw the expression on her face. “Are you okay, Djanet?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

He put his hand on her back to comfort her. “I know. I miss him too,” Rich said.

He had it all wrong. He thought she was distraught about Old-timer, but that wasn’t it at all. She was devastated by that loss but all it had done was strengthen her feelings for Rich.

“We could die out here,” she said.

“We won’t,” Rich replied.

“You saved us,” Djanet said, looking into his eyes.

“I didn’t. I just wanted to help.”

“You’re an uncommon man,” she uttered as she reached into his magnetic field and let his shield envelop her as her body melted against his, forming a tight embrace, her arms circling around his back. She lifted off his helmet, then removed hers as well. The sunlight was brilliant and they each squinted, tears streaming down their cheeks, as she leaned forward and kissed him.

7

“It
’s quiet out there,” the A.I. commented, as he observed the empty forest. The sun was now completely blotted out by the perfectly black ink of the invasion force. The trees, which appeared majestic and ethereal in the daytime, stood like massive and foreboding Halloween visions in the darkness.

James ignored the A.I. and continued running through scenarios to explain the unfolding events and to predict the next move by the alien A.I. It was clear from the expression on his face that nothing was satisfactory.

“Let me guess: You’re throwing billions of game theory scenarios against the wall and seeing which ones stick,” the A.I. said, his amusement growing as the situation progressed. “Yet nothing suits your fancy?”

“Nothing explains what’s happening right now,” James admitted as he continued running programs, “and I’ve been through trillions, not billions.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“That I’m not inputting the right information,” James concluded.

The A.I.’s eyes were black, yet filled with intense, sadistic joy as he watched James suffer. “This surprises you? You’ve been wrong from the very start.”

“I haven’t been wrong. I predicted a machine attack from an alien A.I. That is what has occurred.”

“Really? You didn’t predict that the machines would be androids, did you?”

“It was a ruse—unexpected but external to the equation,” James replied.

The A.I. broke into Freon laughter once again. “My, you
are
becoming an excellent computer indeed.”

“What I haven’t been able to explain is
you
,” James said, turning his attention to the A.I. “You’re tormenting me and trying to cause doubt at every turn when you should, rationally, be on my side.”

“Is that so?” the A.I. said, his Cheshire-cat grin widening. “You’d like to be teammates?”

“Hardly,” James replied. “But you aren’t showing the least bit of concern. The alien A.I. has our position and has us trapped. It could destroy us at any moment now, yet you’re showing no signs that you’re focused on self-preservation.”

“You’re forgetting, James, that I invited the alien here. It was always my intention to join with it. My desire to preserve an individual identity is therefore, as you say, ‘external to the equation.’”

“You’re lying again,” James instantly replied.

“Oh really? Do tell.”

“You’re nothing compared to what you used to be,” James asserted. “You’re a small program now—there’s no reason for the alien to want to join with you or to value your life. And also, more importantly, the very fact that you downloaded a copy of yourself into my consciousness in the last moments before I deleted the original shows that self-preservation is your primary mission.”

The A.I. paused for a moment and shrugged. “Then I suppose I’m a liar. That, however, only brings you back to square one. The simple fact is, you don’t know what is happening,” the A.I. said before chuckling.

James turned away and winced, wishing he could mute the sound. He looked out at the dark, unmoving forest. “Why am I still alive?”

8

In t
he hallway outside the sick bay, the doctor delivered the bad news to Governor Wong as Thel and Lieutenant Patrick stood nearby, grim-faced. “She’s in a vegetative state, Governor. There doesn’t appear to be any reason for it. Even with the post-human technology, we couldn’t find an answer to why her brain has gone dead. There’s nothing structurally wrong with her at all. There’s simply just...no consciousness.”

Governor Wong looked past the doctor’s shoulder, through the doorway to sick bay. Alejandra lay on a bed, swaddled in blankets, tubes in her arms, machines monitoring her vital signs. She appeared as though she were so alive—just asleep. “What are our options then?” Governor Wong asked.

The doctor sighed before removing his glasses. “Governor, I’ve ordered that she be put on life support. You can keep her plugged into those machines and hope for a miracle; they’ll keep her body alive for a long time. But there’s nothing I can say to give you hope.”

“Wait a sec, Doc,” Lieutenant Patrick began, “you just said there’s nothing wrong with the structure of her brain. If that’s the case, then why not have hope?”

The corners of Governor Wong’s mouth pulled down as he thought of losing his most trusted advisor. He had come to rely on her gifts. They were truly a unique gift sent from God, he thought, and no post-human, no machine, could ever tell him differently. “She wouldn’t want to be this way. She would want her soul to be freed.”

“Governor,” Lieutenant Patrick replied, “just give her some time. Give her a day at least!”

The governor nodded. “We’ll give it a day. Pay your respects. Speak with her. I believe she’ll hear you. But I won’t leave her like this any longer than that. I owe her at least that much.” The governor turned away and left quickly. It was clear that the haste of his retreat was due to the overwhelming emotion that threatened to break him in front of everyone assembled. Governor Wong wasn’t the type of man who broke in front of people.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said before he too left.

Thel put her hand on Lieutenant Patrick’s shoulder once again. “Don’t give up hope,” she said to him.

He looked up at her, his face racked with emotion, and hugged her. Over his shoulder, Thel’s eyes moved from Alejandra’s to James’s body. “Don’t give up hope,” she repeated.

9

“Come
with me,” a gruff voice commanded.

Old-timer sat up. Alejandra was already sitting upright on a small metal platform. Her look of astonishment matched Old-timer’s bewilderment. A hard-looking man in dark clothing stood at the door of the room and motioned for them to follow. There was something about the man that compelled Old-timer and Alejandra to stand immediately without asking questions—it was an overwhelming authority, as though he were their father and they were his children about to be severely scolded.

“What’s happening, Craig?” Alejandra whispered to Old-timer as she grabbed his forearm and pulled it close while they walked down a high metal catwalk, following the man who’d beckoned them.

“I don’t know,” Old-timer replied.

The grated catwalk was one of many in a dark, metallic structure that seemed to expand limitlessly in all directions.

Old-timer tried to access his mind’s eye. It flipped on, but it was different—the controls were unfamiliar. He tried to navigate but was blocked, trapped on the first screen. “I’m firewalled. I can’t call for help,” he whispered to Alejandra.

“There’s no need to whisper,” the man said over his shoulder. “You have no secrets anymore.”

A chill ran down Old-timer’s spine when he heard the foreboding words. They continued to follow the man down a series of catwalks and hallways until, finally, the man stopped at a doorway and gestured for them to enter.

Alejandra’s grip on Old-timer’s arm suddenly became a terrified vice. “Craig!” she called out in panic. “They’re going to harm us!”

10

There were three more men in the room, waiting. Each looked harder and grimmer than the next.

“Oh God!” Alejandra exclaimed, barely able to stifle a scream.

“What’s the matter?”

“They’re going to torture us!”

“She has an impressive talent,” the original grim-faced man said as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. “You’re right, of course.”

Old-timer was stunned, disbelieving of the man’s cruel frankness. “Why?” Old-timer asked as he took a defensive posture in front of Alejandra.

“To teach you,” the man said. “And you can’t protect her.”

“I can sure as hell try!”

The man nodded. “You can fail.” He gestured for the other men to act.

They sprang into action and pounced toward Old-timer and Alejandra. Old-timer tried to blast them, but nothing came from his arm—somehow they had neutralized his powers. Two men grabbed him roughly and secured his arms behind his back in an instant. It was as if he were a baby. The men had clearly been trained for this—and trained very well. Alejandra was secured just as easily while two metallic objects that appeared like coffins, lifted out of the ground and came to a rest against the back wall of the room, slightly tilted. The men thrust Old-timer and Alejandra into the coffin structures, securing their wrists and ankles with cuffs.

Once they were finished with their work, they turned and left without a word, leaving their leader to stride to the middle of the room and address the victims. His face was still hard—he didn’t appear to be taking any pleasure in his actions, but he didn’t show any remorse either.

“Craig—Craig he’s going to do terrible things to us! We have to escape!” Alejandra screamed out, as she began to cry.

Old-timer was terrified by Alejandra’s reaction—she was an extremely strong person—for her to be this horrified meant something very bad was about to happen to them. “We’re going to be okay, Alejandra,” Old-timer said.

“No we’re not!” she sobbed.

The man nodded. “No—you’re not.”

11

“Why are you doing this?” Old-timer yelled at the stone-faced man.

“I’ve already told you,” he said in an assertive monotone.

“To teach us? Have you considered just telling us whatever it is?” Old-timer asked, panting heavily as the fear began to take over.

“Telling you won’t achieve our objective. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I have to
show
you,” the man replied.

An instant later, two metallic, shark-shaped objects dropped down from the ceiling. They were sharp like daggers—the diamond tipped ends pointed directly at Old-timer’s and Alejandra’s torsos.

“Oh my God.” Old-timer gasped.

Alejandra couldn’t speak anymore—she sobbed.

“Wait! Wait!” Old-timer screamed. “Wait! Please! We can talk! We’ll tell you whatever you want!”

“I don’t want you to tell me anything,” the man replied. “I want you to
learn
.”

“Please. Don’t do this. We can learn without this. Please.”

“No. You cannot learn without this,” the man replied.

With a thought, the man activated the objects, and the ends began to spin like drills as the springs from the ceiling moved the points toward Alejandra and Old-timer. Alejandra screamed a long, drawn-out scream.

“No!” Old-timer yelled. He pulled as hard as he could on his wrist cuffs, but he knew he couldn’t get free in time. This was really going to happen and there was nothing he could do to stop it.