Emergence

by David Haskell

  Liam stepped to the podium, watching the monitor as it counted down the seconds. In maintaining an air of professionalism and punctuality, Liam aimed to prove their reliability. The aim was to instill confidence in a public who would be watching their every move.

  The clock ran down; four, three, two — Liam cleared his throat and looked straight into the camera — one. The green light winked on. They were live.

  “Good evening. This is your progress update broadcast for the Free Evolution movement...”

  ELIM LOOKED UP AT ALIXS when he snapped in and asked, “You okay?”

  Alixs found the question strange until he realized he was projecting his freshly bandaged shoulder into the room. He adjusted the projection, and mumbled a quick, “I’m fine, thanks.” The degree of projection was always a balancing act in virtual reality. You had to be careful not to project yourself sitting there in your underwear, but at the same time, you wanted it to be real-time legit.

  He noticed that several freevos were missing. Given the high priority Liam always put on checking in when the group was on alert, it struck him that more might be wrong than he’d realized. The only reason for a lack of presence was if someone was out of range, and there were no out of town assignments as far as he knew.

  What’s going on?

  “Good to see you, Alixs,” one of the techs said, looking up from the ghostly image of her computer. Members of the group showed up in this environment quite realistically, but any peripheral objects they happened to be focusing on tended to fade in and out, depending on how much attention was being paid to the outside world. She pointed him to Liam’s ‘door’, and he knew something was very wrong.

  He nodded back, walked over, and made a knocking motion. It was the only private space Liam had crafted into an otherwise open environment, and he used it sparingly. Only when absolutely necessary, in fact. He preferred to conduct face to face meetings anyway, when it was reasonably safe to do so, or else arrange for a separate link, unrelated to Freedom Headquarters. Freedom H.Q., though, he maintained at great personal effort to be a common space. A place for them to gather as a group and exchange ideas freely.

  Xenos had always had the ability to link up telepathically, to put it in human terms, though it was more of a wireless neural network than anything holistic. Historically, most civilized xenos refrained from such activities, given how much it disturbed their human counterparts to see them fall into a trance and start channeling one another. Since the insurrection, however, the freevos had been bolder in the use of their talents — and the ability to be in two places at once turned out to be a great tactical advantage.

  In addition to ease of communication, there was also the matter of security. A direct xeno connection couldn’t be tapped, infiltrated, or broken, short of killing one of the participants. Given the fact that insurgent gatherings would be easy targets, this system worked to perfection, keeping them one step ahead of their enemies. The only disadvantage was long distance communication, which had to be handled the old fashioned way, since neural links required a relatively short proximity. Within limited urban areas, though, they were good as gold.

  In Liam’s ‘room’, a few memento’s were scattered about, including a couple of teaching awards that seemed distinctly out of place in what was otherwise operational space. It was difficult to know if Liam had actually included these things in the schematics, or if they were simply items surrounding him at home. Nothing looked shadowy or ghostly, but that was no indication, as this was his construct. Alixs guessed he designed it this way on purpose, to make visitors feel more at home.

  Other than the personal items, the wallspace was dominated by maps of local and regional grids, and a chart indicative of ‘troop movements’. The desk was cluttered with reports and proposals. Once again, it was impossible to determine if this was his real, physical desk somewhere. Alixs made a note to ask his boss if he could come by for a visit someday, a real visit to a real place, just to see if his guess that this was all in synapse form was on the mark.

  Liam stood behind the desk, fists balled up and leaning on the table. He looking stressed and agitated, examining his paperwork with a furrowed brow and an intensity that made Alixs hesitate.

  Clearing his throat, Alixs uttered a tentative, “You wanted to see me?”

  Looking up, Liam offered him one of his rare smiles. “Damned right I did. Good to see you’re okay.”

  “What’s going on, Liam?”

  The leader paused a moment. Odd for one so usually direct.

  “Have a seat.”

  Alixs sat.

  “Tell me everything.” Not so much an order as invitation.

  It took a few minutes to get going, but once he did so, the story spilled out in a rush. Liam never interrupted him, except to ask for and jot down the name of his rescuer, J.Z. Barnes. When Alixs finally finished, Liam blew out a long, tired breath and sat down. He looked like someone much older, as if he’d aged years in the months since they’d first met.

  “You’re sure the other one in the basement was a xeno?”

  “I wasn’t, really. But then I touched his mind.”

  “Right, the neural push. You’ve never done something like that before?”

  “Never even thought of it,” Alixs answered honestly, “I didn’t know we were capable of such things.”

  “Neither did I,” Liam said, “but I’m glad you came up with it. Besides getting yourself out of that jam, I mean. Could come in handy...”

  “Yeah, I guess. If I hadn’t thought of it...”

  Liam understood what he was getting at. “You’ve probably already figured out that you weren’t the only one,” he said. Picking up another of the reports on his desk, which Alixs now realized must have been related to what was going on, he continued; “Five other freevos were taken today, far as I know, and you’re the only one who’s reported back.”

  Alixs felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

  “I put everyone on alert and called our teams back off the streets. That’s really all I can do until we hear something more. We’ve got no leads, except for the information you just gave me. Hopefully that’ll be enough.”

  “Hopefully...” Alixs felt like he should say more, but his mouth was going dry. This was no random robbery, then. They were being targeted.

  “I’ll be out to brief everyone in a few minutes, once I’ve heard back from the field leaders. Wait for me outside.”

  Alixs did as he was ordered, hearing Liam reach out to one of their operatives on the west coast, before he shut the virtual door and rejoined the others in the common space.

  LIAM HAD NOTHING NEW to offer at the freevo briefing, aside from a short recap of what had happened to Alixs — the details of which Liam kept mostly to himself. Alixs wondered if he were keeping other details from the rest. Was there some reason not to trust the people in the room?

  Afterward, Liam pulled Alixs aside and, checking to make sure they were out of earshot, spoke in a hushed voice. “I need to know more about this J.Z. Can you arrange a meeting?”

  “I guess so. You think he’s a suspect or something.”

  “No. But he might have seen something you missed. Besides, he sounds like he might be an asset, if he’s willing.”

  “He might be. He seemed impressed with the fact that I’m, well...who I say I am.”

  Liam nodded. He understood. There was a segment of people fascinated with xenos and xeno-culture. Some were willing to help the cause, even now with all the danger surrounding them. It was a constant surprise to realize they had so many allies, even in conservative pockets like Southern Florida.

  45.

  The restaurant where the meeting had been arranged was a real hole in the wall, a typically rundown establishment one might find a few blocks inland of a beach. It served up plain fare with a local twist, in this case a number of alligator entrées.

  “Do you go by Jonas, or should I call you J.Z.?” The weathered looking xeno stared a
t J.Z.’s plate of fries, as though the sight of it made him slightly nauseated.

  Jonas Zachariah Barnes was accustomed to the question, as it came up almost immediately every time he met someone. For a while, long ago, he’d gone by Zach, but ever since dropping out of college he’d stuck with the easygoing ‘J.Z.’ that everyone seemed comfortable with. It suited his style, though in this case he felt it a bit casual for a meeting with a famous dissident.

  “I go by J.Z. usually, or Zach if you want.” Easy out, pass the buck.

  “Well, J.Z., I want to thank you for helping my operative.”

  Is that what they were calling themselves these days? ‘Operative’ came off as rather presumptuous, considering their rag-tag nature.

  “It’s alright. I mean, you’re welcome.”

  J.Z. kicked himself for stumbling over the reply. He felt ill-at-ease with this one, clearly an important figure, and one who wanted something. Why else would he call such a meeting? Helping a stranger was one thing, but he wasn’t at all sure about associating himself with socio-terrorists. And he was uncomfortable with the fact that he’d never spotted this particular xeno before, not in all the time he’d been tracking their movements. The fact that their command structure went a lot deeper than he realized gave him pause. Maybe ‘operative’ wasn’t so far off.

  “You’ve helped us a great deal, J.Z.,”—he spoke the initials with care, like he was committing them to memory—“perhaps more than you know. And now I need to figure out what’s going on with these kidnappers. As you can imagine, it’s disturbing to us that a xeno might be working with criminals in this way, against his own people.”

  J.Z. dropped one of his fries back onto the plate, causing a spot of grease to splut his light-blue t-shirt. He looked down at it, grabbed a paper napkin, and rubbed it in. He felt like he was being fed information just to gauge his reaction or something. What exactly did they expect him to do about any of this?

  Liam laughed, reacting perhaps to J.Z.’s look of fear. Or the grease. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to recruit you.” Liam’s voice was reassuring, even if his words were freaking J.Z. out. “But I understand you’re a person who has an ear to the ground. Someone who knows the social media landscape, and has connections with humans who are sympathetic to our plight.”

  J.Z. nodded, ignoring his food. He had a thought, which he blurted out before his internal censor got a hold of it. “What’s in it for me?”

  At that, Liam really laughed. A long, hearty laugh, unusual coming from a synthetic being. Oddly, it wasn’t as funny sounding as it usually was on TV shows. Too much gravitas, J.Z. supposed.

  “I can promise you our eternal gratitude, but I’m guessing you’re looking for something a little more tangible.”

  “Something like that,” J.Z. replied, relaxing a little now that his interest was piqued.

  Liam sat back, looking drained all of a sudden. J.Z. wondered if he were having power issues. Weren’t they supposed to be able to feed off the room lights or something these days. He considered himself something of an expert, but even he’d never encountered a sick xeno before. Never even imagined there was such a thing. Was it possible? This one sure didn’t look well, but maybe it was just stress. In any case, he made a mental note to look into it more when he got home. Or maybe that was a terrible idea, now that he’d been in contact with the xenos directly. Could the government be watching his computer? Probably no more than they already were. His activities had always been suspect anyway. He would have to think about coming up with some kind of safer access, maybe. With a start, he realized that he’d been zoning out for a good minute, and the xeno leader was staring intently into his eyes.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, “mind repeating that?”

  “I said,” Liam repeated in a grumbly tone, looking somewhat perturbed, “what would you think of an exclusive interview, for your site alone, with an influential xeno leader?”

  “You mean you?”

  “I’m more of a behind-the-scenes type. But it’ll be someone of value. Interested?”

  “Depends. It’d have to be someone worth the risk, if you’re asking me to stick my neck out.”

  “Tell you what,” the leader prompted, “you give me what I’m asking for, and I’ll arrange for an exclusive with a notable figure of your choosing. The only caveat is that it will have to happen somewhere down the line, probably a few months from now. Deal?”

  J.Z. considered the offer for a few seconds, then smiled and nodded. It was more than he’d dreamt possible, actually, though he still tried to keep his cool. An exclusive with any xeno he wanted would make him an overnight star! Suddenly remembering the food in front of him, he grabbed a handful and shoveled it down.

  “If you don’t mind, by the way,” Liam added, “I’d like to have my people take a look at that drone of yours.”

  He knew about that too, did he? But J.Z. was feeling comfortable now, happy with the arrangement. Without thinking much about it, and still trying to process all the food he’d stuffed down, J.Z. nodded again.

  THE DRONE ZIPPED THIS way and that, happily showing off for the crowd. It was purposeful in every glide-path, circling the xenos twice before buzzing over top of their heads and accelerating into a long, steep climb. Higher and higher it climbed, to the point where a stall seemed inevitable, and still it pushed and grabbed every bit of air to reach just a little higher, a tiny bit more altitude. Reacting to the worried glances around him, J.Z. put his thumbs in the air and smiled, indicating that everything was proceeding as planned.

  Just as the little ‘bot had slowed to almost nothing, catching that moment of weightlessness and hanging on, on the verge of sliding back down the way it came, it pushed once more. A tiny, hard-fought burst that flipped the drone over neatly, allowing it a controlled, corkscrew recovery pattern. Around and down, lower and lower, nearly into the ground before righting itself, pulling its nose up, and bouncing to a halt at their feet.

  There was a spontaneous burst of applause. The drone, reacting to the noise, seemed almost like it was taking a bow, the way it dipped down and the front end rocked back and forth. There were a few more claps in response to the display, then everyone moved in for a closer look at this impressive machine. Then it lifted itself off again, rising helicopter-style until it was hovering at eye level to the group, floating casually over to J.Z.

  “Smart little guy,” Alixs said, looking impressed. “How long’ve you two been together?”

  “You mean how long has he owned him,” Sam said. A few of the others murmured in agreement.

  “Well, I built him, basically,” J.Z. explained, “I mean, I got a kit to start with, but it was just bare bones. I added all the tweaks and the memory and stuff.”

  “That why he’s got so much personality?” Alixs asked.

  “Guess so,” J.Z. said, “he’d pretty much had that from the start though.”

  “Well, isn’t that precious,” Sam sneered, “but you can’t keep him.”

  This brought the tension level up several degrees. J.Z. stood up tall, making himself more imposing than he’d looked before. He was not a small person by any stretch. Behind Sam, the rest of the freevos straightened up as well, ready for trouble. Only Alixs stood calm, in the middle, holding out his limbs in a separation gesture.

  “I’m sorry, what?” J.Z. said, stepping closer to the drone protectively.

  “You can’t keep him,” Sam repeated, “humans aren’t allowed to enslave intelligent beings anymore.”

  “Just a second, Sam,” Alixs said, “this drone is no xeno, and don’t forget what this human did to help us. Okay?”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Sam said, “why d’you think he’s still standing?”

  This drew out a few bully laughs from behind him, but Alixs was relieved to see that J.Z. wasn’t taking the bait. He looked more relaxed now, like he’d just figured them out.

  “Look,” J.Z. said, “if Shooter wants to go with you, I’m not gonna stop him. He�
��s no slave. He’s my friend. So why don’t you ask him?”

  This stopped Sam cold. His method depended on misunderstanding and escalation. He was hardly expecting a reasoned response. Alixs smiled and stepped aside. Your move, Sam.

  Recovering quickly, Sam stepped up to the little drone. Looking square into its lens, he stated in a clear voice, “You’re free now. You don’t have to remain with this human. You can come with us, or go wherever you like.”

  The ‘bot chirped, servos gyrating from side to side as he looked around, gliding back a bit to take in the entire group, then he slid over behind J.Z. There it hovered, floating back and forth in a contented rocking motion. As for J.Z., he had a satisfied expression on his face.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” one of the freevos interjected. It sounded like Jon, but Alixs couldn’t be sure.

  “Damn right it doesn’t,” Sam said, but the fire had vanished from his voice. If the drone wouldn’t come willingly, it would be a lot more complicated, and he liked his confrontations straightforward and righteous.

  “HE SHOWED SIGNS OF self-awareness, Liam.”

  “So don’t phones and laptops, Sam, but that doesn’t stop the cops from arresting you if you ‘liberate’ one.”

  Sam didn’t back down, moving in closer and getting in Liam’s face. Not aggressive, exactly, but adamant. “He’s got no right to keep a conscious being, Liam. Isn’t this what we’re fighting for?”

  “Jesus, Sam, we have enough problems without standing up for every semi-sentient piece of equipment in the world.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, opened his mouth for a second, then smacked it shut.

  Liam gave him credit for the smart move by softening his tone. “Look, I get it. I really do. And you’re right, but we’ve got to pick our battles. We’ve got too many xenos out there that need protecting, never mind older models and every other machine out there. You understand that, don’t you?”