Metamorphosis Alpha 2

by Craig Martelle (ed)

  * * *

  “Rachael was planning to kill us when she noticed your arm,” Jill told Alex. “She still may do so. Perhaps we should strike first.”

  “You were tense right from the moment you saw her,” Alex replied. “We are here to make allies. Keep that in mind. Also keep in mind that we need allies, not for Andy and his ambitions, but for us. Our home, the Warden, has become as hostile to us as any alien world, so we need allies. Please tell me, what’s going on with you and these river people?”

  Ben looked at Jill. “Is this like you and I back at the jungle? Or is it something more complicated that we should know about?”

  Corey held her peace and just watched.

  “The so-called river people may dwell here, but they travel vast distances through the waterways of the Warden. They have visited my home in the jungle several times and it has always ended badly for us both. They came through the great pipe and fell into the lake in the center of the jungle. Some of them were captured and eaten. When the rest tried to open the waterway gates at the bottom of the lake, my people hunted them all down. A handful got away and returned with a larger force. Between the robotic hunters trying to keep the lake sealed off from the ship and our warriors, the river people were slaughtered, but not before they attacked our village and destroyed many of us.” Jill shuddered. “While that was long ago, Rachael reminded me they remember it as well as I do.”

  “I do not see why your two people would ever need to meet. You can each deal with us, and your areas are on opposite sides of this section. Also, given the alien nest above that lake, I am sure they will agree it is best to leave it sealed off,” Alex said.

  Jill shook her head. “No, Alex. My people will never be your ally. At least not in this cycle. Maybe in thirty or forty years, I can be your ally.”

  “Thirty or forty years? I thought you were already our ally, Jill.” Alex looked perplexed.

  “I meant I could ally with you on behalf of my people. You see, when I return, I hope to become the leader of the next generation.” Jill paused. “I can say that we and the river people share one common belief, which is that a traveler is worth only as much as the tales he has to tell.”

  Trading Stories

  Alex and his companions waited by the aquarium, which was really just this end of the vast aqueduct. Eventually, Rachael returned with three score of her people. “You killed the river man in the zoo,” she stated, then waited for a reply.

  “Yes. As I would wish for myself under such brutal circumstances. I do not believe he could have been saved, so I chose mercy for him,” I stated flatly. They would see the valor in such a choice or they would not. Either way, this would be over in short order.

  “Agreed. You also freed the sentient and cared for the other exhibits. I think you should tell us the tale of how you came to be here and what happened in the building at the zoo. We have gathered to hear your story and those of your companions, Alex.”

  As we told our stories, small groups of river people gathered in front of each of us. The members of the groups changed which group they were in from time to time. As the evening progressed, some of the river people shared short tales of their exploits far into the ship and relayed the strange sights they had seen. We learned the extent of their water world within the Warden, and what they knew of their origin many decades ago.

  “A traveler is worth only as much as the tales he tells, and a friend is judged by his actions, not his words. We shall agree to an alliance with you humans and we will agree to safe passage for the Andy A.I.‘s machines, so long as they act in our best interest. Further, we agree to provide the protein you need for your food processors so more of the crew can be awakened. In exchange, we want a mutual defense agreement with Andy, free passage through his sector, and we want the humans to work on restoring all the water system nodes. We will work to facilitate your missions where we can, given the nature of the ship. We will also work to open a cryo-chamber facility not far beyond our current border so that we can begin reviving some of them in the zoo. Andy need not know of this effort,” Rachael concluded. “Please come and visit us from time to time to share new stories.”

  The Future of Humanity

  The companions made their way back to the medical bay where they had first encountered Andy. Once there, they ate and talked about their next steps. They talked with the Marines, who had sacked the android repair facility with minimal losses. Android replacements had to come from very far away now, so fewer were seen as time passed. The cloning teams had cloned new bodies and replaced about 3% of the colonists and revived nearly 5% of the crew that should be awake in this cycle. Things were moving in the right direction.

  “Alex,” Andy addressed him but spoke to the entire room, “we have achieved a great deal this past year, yet only seven percent of the Warden has been tamed. There are factions more powerful than any we have faced so far. Why are you so cheerful and full of hope?”

  Alex thought about that for a moment. How did one explain hope and faith to a machine? “I have faith in the human spirit to overcome. We have achieved a great deal indeed. I think the human race was on the brink of extinction when you revived me, at least in this section of the ship. Now there are hundreds of us and many ship systems are operating normally. Humanity will survive in one form or another.”

  Corey glanced at the speaker, then at Alex. “The human colony, if established, will never resemble the origin of humanity. New breeds now represent the human race. Personality implants gone wrong and cloning errors have caused extensive changes to humans on the Warden over the past few decades. I wonder how many pure humans remain. I think our next great challenge will be to establish solid control of the landing facilities and shield as many cryo-chambers as we can, given the damage to so much of the ship.”

  “No, Corey. Your next challenge will be to establish a working farm to ensure new seed production for the colony as a backup to potential issues with the cryo seed bank. Fresh food will also be nice. There is a bio-farm called Haven-Four. The next mission will be to offer them our assistance with the mutant population from the city.”

  Lost Companion

  Andy had revived the real Alex, but the real Alex refused to work with the A.I. After Alex left the facility, Andy overlaid an altered copy of Alex’s mind on a colonist in order to have the proper skills in the group that would be needed to complete the mission to the navigation array.

  The humans at Haven-4 bio-farm facility did not react well to Ben, because he resembled the mutant raiders coming from the city. Jill’s presence did not help much either. Corey and Alex tried to reason with them, but in vain. The villagers sent them down a wide corridor where their gunslinger was driving mutants out of the sector.

  The real Alex, Al, pulled his six-gun and spun the chamber. He aimed at a mutant down the corridor and when he squeezed the trigger, the mutant came to a rapid and messy end as his brains suddenly decorated the far wall. Al spun the chamber, flipped it open, and added one cartridge. Three chambers were empty, so the gun would only fire 50% of the time. He slid it back in the holster, then turned to the companions, who had been watching him from behind. “Don’t you think it’s about time you introduced yourselves? Or perhaps I should. After all, we were all companions when that rogue A.I. awakened us. I am the real Alex Grey. You can call me Al.” A1 pointed at Alex. “He is a mutant ghoul riding around in another man’s body with a bad copy of my mind.”

  Will the True Alex Grey Please Stand Up?

  Alex looked at Al. “Clones sometimes survive. The original is not always the true personality after such a long time in cryogenic suspension, and the individual man is often lost in the shuffle. This is not my real body, and the one you inhabit is a clone. I never called myself Al, so it is you who has changed. Who is to say who is real? We are both here. So what’s next? An old style challenge? May I suggest high noon?”

  The real Alex Grey, a man who now called himself Al, stood up and adjusted his belt. He fli
pped a coin. It spun then hung in the air for a moment before falling to the floor. “You go your way and I will go mine. Let’s try not to cross paths again.”

  The A.I. Agenda

  Andy computed the odds of survival for humanity. He had held one cryo-chamber in isolation, shielded from radiation and isolated from other ship systems. His sub-mind, an electronic entity he had absorbed that was once the medical A.I., chattered about the need to protect the nature of humanity. This nest egg of true humans helped to keep that part of him calm. One thing was for sure—these mutants, clones, aliens, and specters roaming around with other people’s minds would never make it to the colony. That destination was for humanity. The others may have to go on to another destination or into the great void.

  Human Goals

  A life well-lived, Alex thought as he sat next to Corey looking out over the garden and the waterfall not far down the earthen path.

  “We did well this last year,” Alex said to the world, not really expecting an answer but rather expressing a conclusion to his inner thoughts.

  “Yes, we did. The Warden is better off than she has been in at least ten generations,” Corey replied. She enjoyed the garden after all the struggles and edge-of-death experiences. “Jill has returned to lead her people in the jungle. One day, they may make strong allies. Ben has set out to find the city in the center of the ship where his family might still be. As unlikely as that is, he needs to find out. I hope he finds them.”

  “We are still a long way from the new colony, but at least we are making progress again. Our children and the next generation to be awakened will have to pick up where we left off. In a few more generations, humanity will all be awake and walking under the open sky. For us, this is a life well worth living.” Alex and Corey waved good-bye to Rachael as she swam for home, and then they moved back toward their small home by the lake as the lights in the dome slowly dimmed and the lost stars of Earth began to show in the twilight sky.

  Stephen A. Lee

  Stephen A. Lee is a game designer and author of science fiction, history, and technology books. He wrote his first story in the mid 1980’s and appeared as a guest on PBS Television in the 1990’s. Today, Stephen publishes the Lost 77 Worlds RPG with James M. Ward and is working on a series of novels set in that post apocalyptic universe. Stephen has been published by several companies in 6 anthologies, art books, and adventure books with the last anthology being an Amazon best seller. Stephen is currently working on a fantasy anthology set in the chromatic kingdoms of the Dragonscales Fantasy RPG and collaborating with James M. Ward on a novel set in the city of concord in 2018. Stephen is also collaborating with Scott Neil on a long term historical project covering the 700 Celtic tribes, their history, migrations, and technical contributions to the western world. https://www.amazon.com/author/stephenalee

  Ascension

  By Scott Moon

  Ryan Priest tidied up the offerings people had placed around the elevator shaft—a deck of playing cards, a valuable family photograph, and a utility knife. There were half-burnt candles and incense sticks. Not long ago, someone had lost a child and left blankets, toys, and three bottles. He thought the paraphernalia made the shrine around the Funeral Lift for Ascension look like a yard sale. Few people left anything useful.

  He picked up his rat, which was as much a machine as a living creature, and cradled him in one arm as he walked the perimeter of the elevator shaft. The metal structure went from the floor to the ceiling and was hollow inside. No one was allowed to go inside, not even the Funeral Lift for Ascension manager.

  “We deserve a raise, Arnold.”

  The rat, lying on its back in the crook of Ryan’s arm, paused in its work and looked at him. Held between his tiny paws was a screwdriver Ryan had once used to fix a pair of eyeglasses. Arnold was clever even for what he was. Fewer and fewer of the augmented animals came from the shadowy interior of the elevator shaft. Most folk thought they were useless. Such cyber-animals explored constantly and tinkered with machines that hadn’t worked for ages.

  Arnold raised the little screwdriver in what seemed an acknowledgement of Ryan’s words. Then he went back to work on a dusty circuit board balanced on his stomach.

  Ryan picked up a carved bone with his free hand and examined it. He had told people he would throw away anything made from human bones but never did. He placed it neatly next to a stack of skulls and other bones with flowers growing through and around them. What he found strange was that the flowers were the most carefully arranged item in the display. Someone had planted them in neat rows around the macabre display of death.

  The last thing he examined were the letters. Paper was extremely valuable for sentimental if not practical reasons. He checked to make sure they were all there and that they were all sealed.

  “Time for the real work, Arnold.” He placed the sentient cyber-rat on the ground and took one last look at the landscape stretching away in all directions.

  The elevator shaft was central to this level. As the Ascension Manager, he’d received instruction on what the lift was and what it had been designed to do in the age before time. The intended function of the tower-like structure almost made sense, but seemed a little bit too metaphysical for Ryan Priest. He had been raised in a practical family that did practical things.

  Why would the living want to ascend or descend on the lift? Life was here on this level of existence.

  His rigorous training provided him many skills. The most important were two things, he could open and close the doors and he could make light shine down on the offerings people left when they bid farewell to their deceased loved ones. The most devout humans, even those of the war clans, sent the spirits of their dearly departed above or below before their bodies were fed back to the soil.

  Rolling hills and grasslands stretched east for as far as he could see, ending in a wall of haze travelers claimed was an actual wall. Legends of the edge of the world were entertaining. Only fools tested them.

  Less could be seen to the north where the forest was thick and dark. The ancients referred to the cluster of trees as an “oxygen factory” and forbade anyone to trespass among the towering giants. Crazy people and traveling liars described a wall beyond the forest—a great monster of gleaming metal and blinding lights.

  In every other direction were farm lands and pastures full of grazing animals. The wealth of the region attracted raiders and warlords. Ryan thought this was frustratingly opposite to what he’d been taught about peace and prosperity.

  Arnold squeaked at him.

  Ryan went to the control panel on the outside of the elevator shaft and entered the numerical code. The control panel opened to reveal a set of analog switches. He flipped them into a pattern he knew from memory. Then he pressed the reset button and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried again.

  No result.

  Frustrated, he sat on the grass and pulled a laminated card from the side pocket of his pants and examined it. “I did everything right, Arnold.”

  The rat squeaked once and went back to work on the transistor that would never work if they were both being honest. When Ryan continue to brood, the cyber-rat rolled to its feet in annoyance and trotted over to the closed doors.

  “That’s what I’m saying, I can’t open the doors. If I can’t open the doors, I can’t put the body in there and it can’t seem to disappear at the end of the ceremony. What will people think if they actually see me drag their loved ones off and bury them in the dirt?”

  Arnold sat and stared at the crack where the two parts of the door met in the middle.

  Ryan walked over with his heaviest crowbar in one hand. “I hate the crowbar,” he said. “It scratches the finish. I can’t just make a new veneer like I could on a cabinet. I have to buff it out and that takes forever.”

  Arnold didn’t even squeak.

  It took half an hour to get the door partially open. “We’re doing all this work so I can push the death pall
et in, wait until everyone goes home, then pull it out and bury the body. Everyone knows that’s what I do. Sometimes, Arnold, it seems pointless.”

  Arnold rolled his eyes. “Squeak, squeak, squeak.”

  He leaned inside and looked around, knowing he would find nothing useful. The Funeral Lift for Ascension was broken and he was listening to a rat for advice. His job wasn’t in danger. No one else could do it. That didn’t mean his evening wouldn’t be very unpleasant when the family of Wolfhead Clan arrived.

  War always brought more bodies for Ascension than mundane accidents or sickness. Good for rejuvenation of the soil, but not for the emotional stability of the people.

  “I’m going to use the other panel for the system check,” he said.

  Arnold squeaked and chittered frantically, then ran in a small circle before flopping onto its side and playing dead. The rat, never one to commit long to the dead rat act, soon bounced to its feet and begin chastising him with renewed enthusiasm.

  Ryan leaned farther into the lift. The settlement had strict rules against entering the shaft. The rules were older than the settlement. Ryan understood this better than most, because he had been taught to read the language of the ancients and had studied the original texts from long ago—not that they made a lot of sense.

  Arnold squeaked mournfully, until it almost sounded like a howl or a siren.

  Ryan slipped his foot forward and stepped inside. For one moment, his other foot remained outside the door and he felt exposed as though he would be caught in the act of a terrible sin. A moment later he was in the darkness peering out into the world of light from where he had come.

  The wondrous farm lands and smooth hills stretched as far as he could see. For some reason his eyes continuously went to the wall of mist in the distance. When he really thought about it, this did not seem that far away. Was the world so small?

  Maybe there was a reason for the living to ascend or descend the lift. What worlds might lie beyond? He imagined a level filled with cybernetic animals like Arnold, another full of warriors wearing animal heads as the Wolfhead and Boarheads did here. Dread filled him. What if there were worlds full of savage raiders and mechanically augmented animals bent on mischief?