by Isaac Hooke
“Yes, but that’s hardly even scratching the surface of what’s out there,” she said. “I feel… disconnected. Like a part of me is missing.”
“Net withdrawal,” Will said. “You’ll get over it.”
Rhea and the others continued to pause along the way to examine different pieces of debris. She and Will found nothing of value, but Horatio dusted off a carburetor that was still working, and promptly stowed it.
“Well, Will and I are winning the game,” Horatio taunted. “We’ve got three salvages apiece. To your zilch.”
“That’ll change,” Rhea said. “Don’t you worry. And besides, a carburetor? That’s barely worth the metal it contains.”
“Salvage is salvage,” Horatio intoned.
The buildings soon gave way to smaller structures. Gizmo scouted the route ahead, confirming no enemies waited in obvious ambush. The party followed after the drone, and soon left behind the ruins entirely, entering the Outlands proper. Out here, rocky terrain ruled the day, and sprawling plains of rock and dirt extended for as far as the eye could see.
“So, we begin the long trek between cities,” Rhea said. “Ever consider investing in transportation? Like a flyer?”
“And miss out on all the rubble along the way?” Will quipped. “Besides, you don’t know how much those things cost.”
The trio advanced, leaving the last of the ruined buildings behind them. Gizmo led the way, rotors running silent two kilometers ahead.
On plains such as these, bioweapons would be visible from well away. Bandits, not so much: during training, the virtual highwaymen had often used natural depressions to hide from view; either that, or boulders. The digital gray clothing the highwaymen favored also made it difficult to spot them when they were lying flat, even when out in the open. Rhea’s HUD, along with the HUDs of the others, allowed them to see on infrared bands, which helped. But still, she felt exposed—snipers could be anywhere out there, targeting them.
She kept her hood pulled close. Best not to make herself the preferred target. It was a small consolation that they wouldn’t aim for her head, if only to preserve the mind-machine interface she harbored there. Assuming she was recognized.
Maybe I should keep my hood down after all.
No, that might be enough to spur an attack in the first place. The downsides of making one’s features obviously cyborg…
“By the way, are you going to miss your lady friend?” Rhea asked Will.
He glanced over his shoulder at her and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What makes you think it was only one?”
She had no answer to that.
“And nope, don’t miss them,” he said. “Got my fill.”
Rhea nodded. She glanced at Horatio. “And how about you? Partake in any carnal delights while in Rust Town?”
“Look at you,” Horatio said. “You were so innocent and naive when we first found you. And after three days of Net access, you’ve already been corrupted.”
“I wouldn’t say corrupted,” Rhea said. “But I am more knowledgeable.”
“Watching pornography makes you knowledgeable, does it?” Will taunted.
“Who says I watched pornography?” she asked. “Maybe I watched educational videos on VidTube.”
“Maybe you did,” Will agreed.
Horatio addressed her: “And to answer your original question, yes, I did indeed partake in carnal delights.”
Rhea cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” She glanced at his lower body. “You don’t look equipped for it.”
Horatio shrugged those metal shoulders. “I coupled virtually, in Machine World.” That was the MMORPG that was popular with AIs.
“Ah,” she said. “I wonder… maybe I should try this Machine World of yours sometime.”
“Oh, don’t,” Horatio said. “You won’t understand it. Machine World is designed for AIs. Human brains, even those stashed within cyborgs, just won’t get it. Plus, the stimuli are completely different, and foreign to humans. If you find upside-down funnels a turn on, then hey, this is your kind of world. Otherwise, I’d recommend you stay away. Far away.”
“That’s good advice,” Will said.
“Right?” Horatio agreed.
“Upside-down funnels?” Rhea asked.
“Yeah, you know, like the kind you use to transfer fuel into a tank?” Horatio replied.
She stared at the robot blankly.
“Hey, it’s a common arousal stimulus among AIs,” Horatio said. “Rising to the level of a fetish in some.”
“Too much information,” Rhea said.
The robot gazed off into the distance. “Nothing like a good pair of funnels on a machine, I tell you…”
“Okay, let’s pretend I never brought the subject up,” Rhea said.
“Sounds good to me,” Will chimed in. “Horatio, if you don’t mind?”
“My lips are sealed,” Horatio said.
Rhea felt a breeze on her face. She checked the wind’s direction using small sensors at the base of her throat: it came from ahead, at a slight angle. Five to eight kilometers per hour southwest.
She glanced at her overhead map and zoomed out. Will had plotted a course that would take them to the next major settlement, a good five hundred kilometers away. The path gave a wide berth to all the latest bandit and bioweapon hotspots, as crowdsourced by other salvagers and travelers over the past few months.
“Never take the same route between cities,” Will had explained. “Always make minor changes. Do you remember, in training, when Bardain instructed you not to peek from the same spot? This is the same idea. If you take the same route twice, you’re just teaching the highwaymen where to camp out the next time. Plus, by always choosing a slightly different route, you’re increasing your chances of finding new salvage: a crashed flyer you missed the first time; an abandoned farmhouse nestled away in a copse. And so forth.”
She restored the map to its standard zoom level and concentrated on the rocky terrain ahead. Small boulders strewed a landscape that was mostly dirt and exposed bedrock. Shelves of rock protruded on occasion, and these were often covered in areas of dirt as well.
As she walked, she searched those shelves for signs of bandits, and scanned the horizons for bioweapons.
She knew from the history she’d read on the Net that the land hadn’t always been this barren. Once it had been green, full of plant and the animal life. But when the water crisis began, and humans manipulated the weather to divert most of the rainfall to the cities and sucked the lakes into massive water tanks for human consumption, the lands outside the cities began to die. It had happened relatively quickly, over the span of only a decade, with grasslands becoming dust bowls across the world. That very same water crisis had precipitated the invasion of Ganymede. Restoration efforts had started before the war, but when half the world’s cities were destroyed, those efforts were abandoned, and the lands between cities—the Outlands—were left to the bioweapons. And bandits.
Rhea and the others marched for the rest of that morning. The journey was uneventful. The tension she’d experienced at the beginning faded, and she began to feel almost restless instead.
Around eleven o’clock, Will abruptly halted and raised a hand. He squinted, gazing toward the far horizon.
“What is it?” Rhea asked softly.
“Gizmo has spotted something,” Will responded.
She zoomed in with her vision and stared for several moments.
Then she saw them: several hulking forms creeping over the horizon. They vaguely resembled giant, disembodied, clawed hands, and crawled almost spider-like across the plains.
Bioweapons.
11
Rhea double-checked the direction of the breeze. They were downwind of the creatures.
“Drop!” Will hissed.
But she was already dropping.
She hit the ground, and momentarily lost sight of the beasts. But they shortly appeared on the horizon once more. She counted thirty Kargs in total. Based on
their current speed and trajectory, the creatures were going to pass roughly three hundred meters to the right.
“If we stay here, will we stay downwind the whole time?” Will asked. “Even after they pass?”
“According to my sensors, yes,” Horatio replied. “But if the wind changes…”
“Then we’ll shoot down the bastards,” Will told the robot.
“That could be difficult, if we let them close,” Horatio commented.
“I have a robot and a cyborg with me,” Will said. “Each of you can take down three creatures by the time it takes me to hit one. With you at my side, even at three hundred meters, I’m confident we can get them all. But that’s the worst case scenario. The wind won’t change. If there’s a chance we can avoid conflict, we have to take it. You know this.”
Rhea realized he had spoken the last couple of sentences for her. She remembered Bardain’s words.
Combat always attracts third parties in the Outlands. Not only are other bioweapons drawn to firefights, but bandits, too.
She watched the Zargs approach. They looked almost exactly like they had in Bardain’s training, except perhaps even bigger. Their crimson carapaces possessed four long, spindly legs, with many more tentacles hanging from their underbellies. Sharp, white serrations occasionally glinted from tentacles as the creatures moved. The pineapple-like heads existed in varying stages of activation, some of them entirely unfurled, others completely sealed.
The bioweapons kept to the path Rhea had computed after originally sighting them; they were still scheduled to pass by three hundred meters to the right.
As they grew closer, she heard Will’s voice in her head over the comm channel she shared with him and Horatio.
Ever heard of Karnators? Will asked.
Karna who? She tried her internal dictionary but didn’t get a match.
Yes, Will sent. They believe we’re reincarnated when we die. And not necessarily as humans. We respawn randomly, our essences becoming spontaneously reattached to whatever new lifeform popped into existence at the time of our death, be it plant, animal, or insect. And this respawning isn’t restricted just to Earth, mind you, but anywhere life exists throughout the universe. An endless cycle of death and rebirth. According to the Karnators, this renewal process has been taking place throughout all of history and will continue until the end of time.
Rhea considered this for a moment. I’m not sure I buy it.
You really think you only came to exist when you were born? Will sent, sounding amused. Think about how unlikely that is, given the intricacies of the universe. The checks and balances. You know how many cells die in the human body every day? Billions. But billions more replace them.
Let me guess, you’re a Karnator, Rhea sent.
I suppose I am, Will agreed.
She frowned. So, if you’re right, and this respawning as you call it has been taking place since time immemorial, then that means, at one point, you or I could have been a dinosaur.
That’s right, Will told her. When we die, we don’t control what we come back as. Could be a worm. An aardvark. An insect.
If that’s true, then it could have been a long time since I was last a human… Rhea said.
You got it, Will said. By then, the Kargs were passing at their closest to the party, three hundred meters to the right. It’s all down to the luck of the draw. As I lie here, gazing at these bioweapons, I can’t help but wonder if one of them might happen to be one of the many friends and family members I’ve lost over the years. This is why you have to regard all life as sacred, Rhea. Why you have to avoid killing anyone or anything unless you absolutely have no choice. This is why I saved you, when I found you lying helpless in the rubble.
Rhea wondered what form she would take next when she died. Assuming what Will spoke of was even true.
The trio watched silently as the Kargs passed by, and the creatures began to recede from the party once more.
Good thing most animal species are extinct, Horatio commented. Increases the chances I’ll come back as a human.
Doesn’t work like that, Will sent. Like I said, you can respawn anywhere in the universe. So it doesn’t matter if there are less animals on one particular planet, considering there are zillions of other species out there. And besides, you can’t respawn.
Horatio turned his head toward Will. What, why?
You’re an artificial form of life, Will explained. You exist outside the parameters of the universe, at least when it comes to reincarnation.
I refuse to believe there isn’t a place for us in this universe, when it comes to the death and rebirth cycle, Horatio sent. As you yourself said, given the intricacies of the universe, the checks and balances, it seems unlikely that a sentient form of life, even if artificial, would be excluded. For all you know, as soon as an AI is turned on for the first time, it acts as a receptacle for one of these reborn essences you mentioned.
I suppose that’s very possible, Will admitted.
Rhea continued to stare at the retreating Kargs. Then: You know what’s interesting?
What? Horatio and Will sent simultaneously.
She smiled. The two of you have been traveling together for how many years now, and all this time, you never told Horatio you were a Karnator.
I’m a relatively recent convert, Will said. A man’s got to believe in something, at some point in his life. Otherwise, all he has to look forward to when he dies is nothingness. And that’s no way to live. Such a belief will only make him cling to this world all the harder. Not that clinging is bad. But you catch my drift.
Rhea didn’t answer for several moments. I think I understand now why you’ve continued as a salvager after all these years. Despite the danger.
When the Kargs reached the far horizon, the party moved on.
Rhea and the others continued marching all that day. They encountered nothing worthy of salvage: no abandoned homesteads, no crashed vehicles. When night began to fall, Will headed toward a series of small boulders, and after the party members were well ensconced by the rocks, he called a halt.
“We’re easy targets on the IR band,” Rhea commented.
Will nodded. “It works both ways, though. Nothing will get close to our camp. Not without us noticing. Horatio?”
Horatio clambered onto one of the small boulders and lay flat to stand watch. Gizmo landed on another boulder across from him and pointed its cameras across the plains in the opposite direction.
“Are we going to take turns standing watch?” Rhea asked.
Will shook his head. “Horatio and Gizmo are equipped with regenerative power sources. They can keep going all night.”
“I can, too, as far as that goes,” Rhea said.
“No, you need to rest your human brain,” Will told her. “It’s no different from an ordinary brain in that regard. Without a good night’s sleep, you won’t be able to function tomorrow. You need less slumber than me, of course: the energizing vat of chemicals your cerebrum floats in will let you get away with four to six hours, whereas we real humans require six to eight. But I digress. Eat, then get some shut eye. We set off again at first light.”
Rhea sat between the rocks for cover and downed a couple of fat pills with a sip from her self-refilling canteen. The latter had been extracting moisture from the air throughout the day and would continue to do so all night. She rested it on the ground beside her so the canteen could cool—eventually water vapor would condense on the surface, increasing the amount of moisture extracted.
Will lay back against one of the rocks. He was a dark silhouette in the night, but a quick mode adjustment on her HUD caused that silhouette to become outlined in blue. Gizmo, Horatio and her own body became similarly highlighted.
Will popped a pill and drank from his canteen, then his breathing shifted subtly, indicating repose.
Rhea didn’t feel the need to sleep just yet, so she retrieved the inert pistol Bardain had gifted her and activated the target practice app via her HUD.
She used AR-VR mode: a virtual environment overwrote her vision entirely, but it was based upon her actual surroundings—courtesy of a snapshot generated before the light levels dropped to zero. There was an option to use LIDAR bursts to update the virtual environment in real-time based upon her surroundings, but that would serve only as a beacon to any bandits watching the horizon nearby.
She programmed the virtual environment to mimic the real-world object for object, as per the aforementioned snapshot, with the only difference being that everything was lit up like daylight.
The spherical targets appeared, floating in the air around her; staying seated, she spent a good half hour practicing her aim. When the session was done, she finally felt like going to sleep.
Over the next few days, they passed through the occasional abandoned farmstead, usually finding at least one or two items of some worth. In the evenings, Rhea continued to practice her aim. Horatio often joined her in virtual scrims against bandits or bioweapons while Will slept, and they would play late into the night, using AR-VR to emulate daylight. Gizmo kept watch when Horatio was thus occupied.
About two days into the journey the landscape subtly changed. The small boulders scattered across the terrain began to harbor small drifts of black and grey sediment. Always concentrated on the eastern side, the drifts were subtle at first, burying the bases of the boulders up to Rhea’s ankles, but as the party progressed, the drifts became higher, until eventually they reached to her knees and sometimes beyond, depending on the dimensions of the boulders and surrounding terrain. The rock shelves that frequently dotted the landscape also had black sediment collected in drifts at the base, as did the hollows and mounds of the ground itself, with the sediment always forming piles on the eastern side. There was also a thin layer of grit coating the terrain in general—about half a finger’s width.
“What’s with the drifts?” She kicked at the pile next to a small boulder, and the sediment scattered like so much dust.
“Gritstorms,” Will said. “Didn’t Bardain mention them?”
She nodded. “He did.” Gritstorms were restricted to the Outlands. Essentially massive dust storms, they kicked up small particles of dirt and rock and carried them over large areas. It was something that the party would have to tolerate, from time to time, while out here.