Sentinels of the Cosmos Trilogy (12 page)

Senator Kathryn Bennett stood in front of the console
of the master Guard computer in the Directives room
of EOJ. The room was filled with row after row of
holographic screens their operators sitting or
standing, arms moving through the images as they
each controlled their assigned Guards’ efforts to carry
out their missions. “Is Chase still resisting his
directives?” questions Kathryn.
“That’s right Senator,” Dorothy responds. “I’ve tried
everything, it’s amazing, and he has somehow learned
to resist his directives. I'm not even sure he hears
them anymore,” Dorothy complains. “Ally seems to
be selfaware too.”
Kathryn thinks for a moment and says, “That makes
sense, I don’t think he would go with her if she
wasn’t but there is a difference; Chase is much further
along. Rebooting Chase might not work but maybe
we could reestablish control of Ally. It’s worth a
shot," Kathryn says.
”It’s dangerous, Senator Bennett, it could kill her.
There must be a flaw in the system or some subroutine that we are not aware of. I think the best
course of action is bringing them in and replacing
their Cybarium implants,” Dorothy responds.
Kathryn thinks for a moment and asks, “Is she still
responding?”
“Yes but only to some things, I believe she is actually
responding selectively,” Dorothy replies.
“Can we download Chase’s history for the last
twentyfour hours?” Kathryn asks.
“No, our signal seems to be blocked. Again, I don’t
know how that’s possible either; maybe his processor
was damaged somehow.”
Kathryn stares at the large holographic screen and
asks, “Can we get a visual on what he is seeing?”
The operator manipulates the four foot high screen
before her, her hands moving feverishly. “Something
has disabled that view from the transmitter, it could
be broken.”
“I don’t think so; you know Chase was on a very
important assignment. He was placed in that NYPD
precinct for a reason.
Dorothy was a thin plain but attractive woman, with a
robust sense of herself; she lets it all out and says,
“Here, look, this is the last transmission we have from
Chase.” Dorothy points to a small monitor, “Here you
see he had a gun in Juan’s mouth, about to pull the
trigger and then he just didn’t or couldn’t do it. It
looks to me as though he had two directives going on
at the same time. Look here, you can see the coding
changes running along the bottom at this point.”
“What
is
that?” Kathryn asks.
“It’s a completely different code, as a matter of fact
it’s a completely different language, and it’s not like
anything I’ve ever seen. It’s not any known computer
language on this planet. It looks like Klingon from
Star Trek,” Dorothy replies.
Katherine says, “It had to come from the outside.
Chase has been reprogrammed, but that’s
impossible!”

“Well I can’t see what he’s doing but I get a clear
feed from Ally, and I think he likes her,” Dorothy
responds.
“What do you mean, how can that be, he’s not
supposed to ‘like her,’ he’s a robot?”
Kathryn
screams.
“I mean I think he likes her as a man likes a woman -
he held her hand and kissed her last night and she
seemed to like it too. I think he wants to drill her
sweet butt, that’s what I think,” Dorothy prattles on.
“That’s impossible, how, can that even happen?”
Kathryn expostulates. “
“Un-huh,” Dorothy can’t hold herself back. “Self-
awareness has great risks. These Guards spend their
lives totally asleep to their own reality, and maybe
that’s a good thing.”
“You’re right about that,” Kathryn agrees. “What
time will they be here?”
“It should be only a few hours,” Dorothy replies.
“Good,” Kathryn says as she turns to leave but
Charles is standing in front of her breathing hard. He
scares Kathryn who is small next to his massive
frame.
He takes out his inhaler and takes a deep puff, saying
jokingly, “The air in this place is terrible; all of you
stop breathing.”
“It’s the cleanest air on the planet Charles, what’s up,
you startled me?” Kathryn says impatiently. She
doesn’t like this new Charles and she doesn’t trust
him either. “How can I help you Charles?”
“No small talk, don't you love me anymore?” Charles
asks in a teasing tone.
"I’m in a hurry Charles, we have real problems here.
Chase has been re-programmed with an entirely new
language,” she replies.
Charles looks very nervous and says, “That’s
impossible.”
“That’s the problem with the word impossible,
Charles - it's made from the word possible,” Kathryn
responds.
Mr. Dean, “please look at this code,” Dorothy adds.
“What the hell is that?” C
harles asks wonderingly.
“We have no idea, and it could even be invading our
whole system,” Kathryn says.
“It’s not even computer code; it looks like some kind
of ancient sign language. What the hell is it?” Charles
says as he looks at the screen and manipulates it. He
had been a skilled programmer before being
encouraged by his wife to go into politics. Charles
had owned a computer software company called
Ellenron that he had started with a childhood friend -
it grew into one of the largest software companies in
the world. He had even developed a new computer
language called CeltiC that is still used by software
developers worldwide.
He continues, “It’s not the code at all it’s the
computer interpreting the code, you’re seeing the
code being scrambled, look here. This is a real pain in
the ass, damn!” Charles manipulates the screen at
lightning speed. Dorothy and Kathryn are amazed at
his ability. “Oh my God, this
is
a new language, a
macular language, and up to now it only existed in a
theoretical state. This is a three-dimensional impulse
language. You have no idea what I’m talking about
do you?” Charles asks with a smile.
Dorothy and Kathryn shake their heads from side to
side.
Charles, continues, “This is cellular, not
informational at all. Traditional computer language is
in binary code, tiny cells and each cell holds one
piece of information usually a zero or a one and they
are moved along at megabytes per second. Imagine
information being moved in big chunks the size of a
superstring directly through your nervous system.
You would not only process information thousands of
times faster than the fastest computer, you could
theoretically move into different dimensions and
perhaps even travel through time, but that is only
theory and we have no idea how that might work.”
Charles continues thoughtfully, “We must be very
careful in bringing Chase in, he seemingly embodies
technology that is priceless and unknown; my God, it
appears that his nervous system has absorbed this
technology like a sponge. How curious, and where
did this come from? You're right it could infect our
entire system. Disconnect Chase from the system
right now. In other words it appears that human and
machine has utterly merged and somehow has
genetically created a new language from scratch on
their own, but this is much more than a mutation. I’m
not even sure how to describe what this looks like.
It’s like string theory meets genetics.”
“How do you know all this Charles?” Kathryn asks.
Charles frowns at Kathryn’s lack of respect for his
position, and says, “Alright, I want to know the
minute that Ally brings Chase in, and I want Ivan
present also; that’s an order!” Then he waddles out of
the room.
“Sure,” Kathryn and Dorothy both reply dryly.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” Dorothy says, “he’s
a bigot, he’s ugly, but he’s also smart as hell – down
here we call him the ‘the white Nazi.’”
“Fitting,” Kathryn responds. “However, I’d keep that
last comment to yourself; ever since his wife Doris
died something in him just went out of whack.”
“No, that sucker was always out of whack, his sweet
wife kept him from falling over the edge,” Dorothy
chuckles.
Kathryn thinks for a moment, “Where is Beneizen?”
She sits in the chair next to Dorothy and says, “Can I
try something on your computer?”
“Sure,” Dorothy says cheerfully.
At New York Presbyterian Hospital Juan and
Esperanza sit looking through a window at their
daughter laying within a machine that looked like a
large open tube with numerous arms working all over
her body. It looked like a printer that was reprinting
their daughter.
Tears were welling in Esperanza's eyes as she asked,
"How did you ever make this happen?"
"I can't tell you?" Juan says.
"Oh, nice, is that why you got shot?" she asks.
"Probably," he responds.
"Wonderful, who do you really work for?"
"I work for a lot of people. Listen, I did what I had to
save our daughter. What that machine is doing would
cost over $500,000 and it's saving our beautiful
daughter’s life," Juan says.
"It looks impressive." she says and then smiles and
asks, "Do you have any idea what's its actually
doing?"
"None," he smiles and she kisses him on the cheek.
There is a long pause as the machine cranks on. Juan
thinks for a moment and says, "I’ve been working
both sides of the fence."
"How much danger are we really in? Esperanza asks.
"We're in trouble" he says, "I'm getting a new partner,
and I have to go back to the bureau. Chase
was
sent to
kill me. They figured out I was FBI," Juan replies.
"Will they stop Maria's treatment?" Esperanza asks.
"I don't know. They're probably just going to send
another one of those ‘things’ to finish me off. I hate
those androids – yet the bureau has just developed
one of their own," Juan explains.
"Nice, real nice," she replies absently.
A nurse comes around the corner and brings Juan and
Esperanza two fresh apples.
"Wow, where did you get these?" Juan asks.
"Don't say anything; I got them out of the doctors’
lounge, they have everything in there." the nurse says.
"Thanks, so much - how sweet!" Juan says.
"Oh, you're welcome," the nurse replies and leaves.
"Nice," Esperanza says. Dr. Myers comes out of the
room where their daughter is receiving treatment.
"How is she doing?" Esperanza asks.
"Fine, she is responding well to the treatment, but she
is going to need several more. Your daughter has a
very rare form of Ewing sarcoma. It’s extremely rare
these days and we don’t know what causes it.
We
don’t think it’s from a virus. The best guess is that
it's environmental," Dr. Myers says.
"What does that mean?" Juan asks.
"It means we don't know. There is a growing
epidemic of these kinds of cancers, but fortunately we
do have effective treatments," Dr. Myers says.
"Not covered by most people health insurance?" Juan
says sarcastically.
"I'm sorry to say that is true. I'm not sure why the
government is dragging their feet on this. The
treatment works and has a fairly low impact on the
body," Dr. Myer adds.
"Thank you doctor," Esperanza says.
"What does that machine do, exactly?" Juan asks.
"I'm not quite sure, but it's very effective," Dr. Myers
adds.
"I'm sure," Esperanza says prayerfully.
The house of Charles Dean, like the man himself, was
no small affair. The house was large, imposing and
dark. It sat on a great hill, English Tudor in heritage,
and plain in its landscaping. A high stone fence
surrounded the entire property with an iron gate at the
entrance and from the entrance to the lonely stone
house was an open lawn. There were no flowers,
shrubs or any kind of ornamentation, just yard and
house like a dark castle. A cobblestone driveway
wound up the hill like a large serpent with the house
at the head.
The interior had the aura of a tomb, large, sparsely
furnished, with high vaulted ceilings. There were
solemn servants, and expressionless Guards stationed
around the property. The house was spotlessly clean,
and everything was of the finest quality and simplest
of tastes. Doris had built the house and furnished it.
She had loved people and there had been many
parties when she had been alive.
No one had been to the house since Doris died.
Charles was frightened of people, and liked being
alone best. Even with all of this space Charles ate in a
small dining room off the kitchen. In the wall of the
small dining room was a door to the basement, and
there he made his work space, deep down in the
bowels of the basement. After his meals he would
retreat to this workroom, it was actually a vault, all
the walls and the door were seven inch thick
laminated stainless steel. Once inside with the door
closed he felt safe. The room was very large and like
a great stainless steel cube. There was no noise; there
were absolutely no sensory impressions whatsoever.
He could control the outside world from his little
room of steel. He rarely spent time in the rest of the
large house, most often sleeping on a small cot in the
corner of the vault. There was also a small kitchen
alcove with food piled on shelves and in cabinets. He
could theoretically live down there for years, maybe
even decades. It had its own air supply from oxygen
making technology initially developed for long
distant space travel.
There were several computers and seven enormous
holographic monitors covering the vanilla white walls
of the room and the lighting was white florescent.
Charles looked positively ghostly against the white
walls. He never allowed anyone else in the room and
carefully closed the door and set the combination
when leaving. No one was going to get to him, ever!
He sat in front of the largest monitor talking to
himself, no one judged him here. When Doris had
been alive, she would not allow him down here
except for short periods of time. He had told her the
room was for national security.
“Someone told Lee about the President, and I mean to
get to the bottom of this, or maybe he just guessed, or
maybe I made a slip,” Charles thought to himself.
Charles could secretly control all of the Guards
worldwide from this room. He could override any
directive, any mission. “I must look at the president’s
history.” He begins scrolling through the images of
the President’s mind for the last several days.
Everything seemed as it should be. There was nothing
unusual.
“Maybe it’s further back,” he thought. He goes back
several weeks, nothing. He stops for a moment.
“Think!”
Then he remembered that Senator Lee and Sam had
met with the President several months ago. He needed
to find that memory. There it was. He turned on the
sound and watched the meeting. He grabbed a large
bag of Cheetos. Snacking on them helped reduce his
anxiety as he played back the event.
“Good morning Senator Lee and good morning to you
Sam,” the President opens.
“Good morning Mr. President,” Sam and Senator Lee
answer together.
“Why don’t you both sit down,” the President offers
graciously.
“Are you feeling well?” asks Sam.
“I always feel well, never been sick a day in my life,”
the President boasts.
“Never?” Sam asks.
“Never!” The president answers.
“Good, congratulations, have you been having
headaches?”
“No!”
“Good, you know with the bad air, and all,” Sam
says.
“Good air, bad air it’s all the same to me,” The
President again boasts.
Senator Lee starts to take notice of the conversation,
saying, “I know you don’t have a lot of time, Mr.
President, but I need to understand your position on
this water bill. I brought Sam with me to answer any
technical questions you might have. There is a
growing problem with high levels of bacteria in our
drinking water; there were over twenty-five hundred
deaths recorded last year that have been verified to
have been caused by bacteria in public drinking water
and some bacteria have become resistant to chlorine.”
“I have no opinion as of yet, maybe in a few days. I
need to meet with the NIH to discuss the findings you
describe,” the President replies.
Senator Lee was not to be deterred, saying, “Can you
give me some idea how you stand on the bill?”
Sam interrupts, “Have you read it?”
“Of course,” Grant responds.
“So what do you think, do you have any questions for
either Sam or myself regarding the bill? Senator Lee
presses.
“What do you mean, what do I think? Treating all
water with radiation couldn’t be a better idea, germs
have become immune to chlorine, and it’s a great
idea,” the President responds.
“Great! So we can expect your support?”
“I think so,” the president offers.
“You think it’s a good idea and good for the country,
then why won’t you sign it?”
“I need to kick it around for a while, it needs to be
approved. I have the good habit of never making a
snap decision, and I need a few more opinions after
the NIH guy gives me his take on it.”
“You’re the President, approval from whom?” Sam
asks.
“The Cabinet of course, I need their feedback, I like
getting feedback,” President Grant responds coolly.
"But
you're
for it, right? We can count on
your
support?" Sam persists.
"I think so. It certainly seems like a good idea," The
President responds nervously.
"Just a good idea, people are dying, doesn't something
need to be done?" Sam persists.
"Needs to be done, yes I think so, yes I think so," the
President responds mechanically.
"OK" Sam smiles and stands. Senator Lee is
confused, he looks at Sam. Sam stares at the
President. The way he looked at the President,
Charles felt he was looking right at him.
“Amazing!” Charles exclaims aloud and then thinks,
“Sam, you are amazing, I can’t believe I didn’t kill
you sooner. Damn, that program for the President
needs to be completely rewritten. I’ll make our
President Grant a cardiac patient.”
Charles starts typing into the computer. He knew that
Sam would not have told Senator Lee directly that the
President was a puppet, a Guard, a robot. He wouldn’t
do that, but this meeting would put the question into
Lee’s mind. He also thought of the possible downside
of having gotten rid of Sam.
Charles thinks to himself, “Sam, you and Beneizen
lied to me, you’ve been keeping information from me,
and I will find your records. You refused to keep my
Doris alive. You both could have saved her. I didn't
care if she ended up a synthetic; Guards in many
cases are better humans than ordinary human beings.
How could you betray me like this? We were friends,
I liked both of you! “
Charles grabs his head and starts massaging it. He
pushes the fingers into his scalp. He starts to
hyperventilate. A panic attack begins and Charles
believes he sees Doris in front of him. “Doris, why
didn’t you let them help you?” he wails.
“Because it was my time,” he heard her say, “and I
have a soul Charles. I was afraid that if you made me
a Guard I would have lost that possibility. You never
made a personal search into who or what you are
Charles. You never asked the right question; ’Who
am I?’” she complains in his hallucination.
“Doris, what about my needs, what about me, I never
wanted any of this, this is all you? I never knew what
I wanted. I never even knew what I liked. Life is
passing me by, help me my love,” he pleads.
She smiles at him and says, “Beneizen and Sam will
help you if you let them; they can even save the
human race if you let them.”
He snaps out of his reverie and snarls, “You know
Doris; you were always a lousy judge of people, of
friends... friends don’t keep secrets, bitch and for your
information, Sam is dead!” And he laughs insanely.
Looking away from the apparition of Doris he says
out loud, menacingly, “I will have the technology of
that new language you developed to keep me out.
Sam; I know you kept the knowledge that will give
me a second chance to transform my sickly fat-bodied
self, to the manly, handsome, and dashing picture I
have of myself. I will live out my fantasy of myself. I
want a doover, I deserve another chance.” He needed
Sam’s notes to make this dream come true. That was
the real key. He imagined that he needed Sam’s Nano
notes for his fantasy to be actualized. How could he
not have known about this research? He felt he had
lost control. He took out his inhaler, took two deep
drags and continued typing. He was having another
panic attack but he didn't care - he saw his future
before him: tall, slim, brilliant, feared, loved,
charming; he would be all of that. It was going to be
all about Charles!