Emergence

by David Haskell

  J.Z. looked up, his expression curious but unconcerned. “Sure thing.”

  Liam put up a hand like he was going to protest, but Alixs shot him a look that conveyed the full importance of the moment. Liam got it. The two of them exited, and Alixs moved gingerly over to the controls.

  “It’s you,” he said. It occurred to him then to wonder how she was creating this voice. It was the third incarnation he’d known, and the first to sound distinctly mechanical. She’s dying.

  ‘Alixs, the Xenolight have successfully fled the city, and are expected to arrive on schedule.’

  “Thank you.” Hardly an adequate sentiment, but he didn’t know what else to say. Oddly enough, he wondered for the first time if she had a name, but had no intention of asking.

  ‘They’ve selected a leader of their own. One who — just a moment...’

  ALIXS FELT LIKE HE’D been waiting an eternity. A knot began growing in his throat the longer the line remained silent, and he couldn’t stop returning to that thought about what her name was. When they were joined, he simply thought of ‘it’ or ‘the Mind’, later ‘her’ or ‘she’, but now he felt he was lacking some vital information. He began to breathe heavily, an odd habit from the time of physicality, but it seemed appropriate. He began mumbling, whether to himself for comfort or for her benefit he didn’t know. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’ve done so much. You deserve better than this. Thank you.”

  The knot grew tight and he felt a crushing sensation, like he might die from it. A cynical sliver of his mind scoffed at the notion of a Xenolight suffering the effects of panic, but there it was. He wanted to call out to her, tell her to stop them, save herself. Anything. But he knew that he should not. That any plea from him would only cause her additional pain.

  Suddenly, the line blared a stream of garbled static, and he fought to clear it up enough to understand.

  “Say again? Please say again, what did you say?”

  ‘Alixs!’ The static still there, but it was clear enough to make out, that flat, mechanical tone, delivering one last warning. ‘Defend the craft. Protect the Exodus. The enemy is upon you—’

  The static intensified, there were several loud booms. For an instant Alixs thought he could hear shouts, other voices in the background. Then silence.

  “Mother!” he screamed.

  No response. The indicators flashed red, the connection severed at the source. He called out again, dread flooding over him, scalding hot and painful. “Mother! I’m here!” Tears began to flow. “I’m here,” he cried, a final, agonizing plea.

  He sat motionless for several minutes, knowing they were pressed for time but not able to shake himself. From his throat, a low, aching sound of misery welled up. Sickness in his gut threatened to overwhelm him. Still he sat, staring.

  Out of the corner of his vision, he noticed the pale blue glow filtering out of his pocket. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d checked his mobile device. Now that they were at the Exodus, there’d been no need. He slowly pulled it out, the glow beginning to fade already. Soon it would be gone.

  Above the screen, a three-word message stopped his agony cold, though the weeping went on. He wept for his mother, the Mind of Tera-Prime, their martyr and their savior. He wept some more for his friend, his mentor, his surrogate father, Ahmis. He wept for what he was, for what he’d lost, for the Xeno-Sapien race that would soon be no more. He wept for lost comrades, and for the terrible cost this quantum leap had wrought.

  When he finished weeping, he was left with a deep, immeasurably peaceful sense of purpose. Of destiny. He watched as the words, and the pale blue glow, faded dimmer still, until they remained only in his mind.

  Farewell, my son.

  86.

  In the end, they had used bunker busting explosives to take out the computer core. This was accomplished without difficulty, nor resistance, and the effort came much too late. The city was in shambles, the criminals long since escaped. Rumors that the first administrator and most of his staff had fled the city circulated widely. Morale was at an all-time low. But all that was momentarily forgotten when the first ministerial guard emerged from underground with evidence of the mainframe’s destruction. Citizens and politicians might run, but law enforcement held their ground and did their job.

  The cheer that greeted the strike force was enormous. At first the shell-shocked team shrank back from the noise, but they soon broke into wide smiles and began to mingle with their fellows. It was a fleeting, but genuine, moment of joy. A cause for celebration, like a drowning man grabbing hold of a raft.

  The rank and file peace forcers and guard units had no way of knowing the true cost of their victory. They only knew that it was a victory. Their city destroyed, they needed someone, or something, to blame. With no more freevos to hunt down, the mainframe was the best alternative. Killing it was like winning the war. For now.

  A runner hurried forward and handed off a printed communique to the leader of the squad. He put up a hand for quiet as he read it, then folded it and looked up at his soldiers.

  “Looks like we got more than we bargained for. Mainframe’s been concealing the location of all those escapees, but as soon as we took it out we got a ping. They’re holed up in one of the American’s military installations. New orders are to link up with the American’s at the gate and go after ‘em!”

  The cheer wasn’t the most enthusiastic. The soldiers were exhausted, and the notion of a new assignment out of Tera-Prime was daunting. Still, the chance to strike at the enemy traitors was appealing, and there were no long faces among the crowd. With a quick salute, the leader stepped away and they all got down to preparations.

  “ARE YOU SURE SHE SAID ‘the enemy is upon you’?” Liam looked alarmed at this new development, although their perimeter sensors indicated no trace of enemy agents, nor anything on long-distance radar.

  “Totally sure,” Alixs said, his voice a dull, raspy version they were unaccustomed to. “It was the last thing she said.”

  It wasn’t, really, but Alixs had no intention of sharing her true last words.

  Both J.Z. and Liam lowered their heads. They’d figured out what happened as soon as they heard their friend scream, but neither had been able to find words to be of any help.

  “Maybe,” J.Z. stammered cautiously, “ah, maybe she was confused. I mean, she was under attack herself.” He shrank back, afraid that Alixs might take it wrong.

  But Alixs understood. “It’s possible, but I don’t think so. She was really specific. Said we had to protect the rocket.”

  “Well, my friends,” Liam said, pushing up from the chair, “all we can do is stay vigilant. We’ve checked everything we can. If they come, we’ll be ready.”

  “Right,” Alixs said. He knew there wasn’t much they could do, out here all alone in the forest, against a motivated, hardened army. The Exodus was vulnerable, if their enemies had indeed discovered the plan. “Let’s get back to work, then.”

  CAIN PEERED OUT FROM behind a mass of greenery he’d been using as cover, as yet another transport vehicle arrived. Turning on his audio equipment, he set it to a fine sensitivity, so as to pick up whatever stray conversations were going on out there. Then he adjusted himself so as to get a better look at their little operation. It didn’t take long for his receptors to begin picking up chatter, though none of it was worth much at first.

  Fifteen hours! I swear I’ll never ride a bus again!

  Can you believe it? We’re really here! Is that a space shuttle?

  As the stream of meaningless prattle droned on, assaulting Cain’s auditory system, he plucked the receivers out of his head in frustration. He had no patience for the idiotic rantings of a bunch of tourists, and that’s exactly what they were. But then, the access doorway swung open, and the human he’d seen so often around the facility stepped out, clipboard in one hand, amplifier in the other.

  ‘Folks, could I?’—he got immediate feedback from his bullhorn, stopping t
o adjust it before speaking again—‘If I could have your attention up here? Thanks!’

  What the hell?

  Is that a human?

  It’d better be a xeno in disguise.

  We came all this way to meet up with humans?

  The speaker laughed as he caught some of their crosstalk. Raising the device to his mouth, he called for calm, and invited them to direct their attention above.

  High up in the dome of the facility, a shimmering figure stood in the window. All this time, Cain had never noticed this particular part of the well-rehearsed scene — the window was situated precisely opposite his hillside observation spot. No matter, he got it now. Amid the oohs and ahhs, he heard a name repeated, one that made his stomach tie itself up in knots. The name of his enemy.

  Alixs!

  Look, up in the window. It’s Alixs up there!

  The figure slumped slightly, as if exhausted. Taking a good look at him, he came off as aged compared to what Cain remembered from the broadcast. Haggard even. An odd juxtaposition to his translucent appearance. Even his unearthly glow seemed faded, though it might have been a trick of the sun.

  The ghost-boy raised his limbs slowly, a grand sort of gesture, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. That cheering was familiar to Cain. He’d heard it several times before, but never knew the cause. Now this whole circus was beginning to make more sense. He’s created his own cult of personality here.

  Finished with his demonstration, the enemy retreated back into his turret, and the crowds began buzzing about what he’d become, and what they were doing here. As for Cain, it was time to get a look inside.

  NOW THAT HE’D SEEN that glowing bastardization of a xeno again, it all fell into place for Cain. They weren’t going to be selective about who went up into space. They were all going. They had only to transform themselves, as their leader had done, and they could all fit aboard.

  It also explained why so many were going into the building, with none coming out. They were already in the process of transforming these xenos, and would likely continue day and night, until the lot of them were glowing freaks just like the one he saw in the window. He wasn’t sure how they were doing it, but at least he could make some sense of why — something that had been driving him mad ever since he’d uncovered their nest of space-bound subversion.

  Cain buried his surveillance gear deep in the woods. He then proceeded to lift a suitcase from one of the bus bays, riffling through it for the gaudiest clothing he could find. He topped it off with a wide-brimmed sunhat. This served to hide his face from any terrorists looking down from their watchtower. The disguise wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny, but he didn’t plan on being inside for very long.

  Getting inside was easier than he’d anticipated. He simply attached himself to one of the incoming groups and followed the leader straight through the doors. The fact that this was a disorganized mass of bodies worked to his advantage, and although he did notice some head counting going on outside, he reasoned that any discrepancy would be a long time coming back to him.

  The shouts of surprise from outside caused him to rethink that assumption, but only for a moment. There was a sudden crush as the xenos closest to the outer doors began to surge inward, forcing everybody to move deeper into the bunker-like structure, making even Cain feel claustrophobic despite his extensive training. He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong out there until the familiar hum of a Loktr unit rose up.

  87.

  The pilgrims nearest the doors shoved their way in, while the rest ran back to the vehicles. The edge of the Loktr swarm, circling overhead and occasionally buzzing down to foment further terror, didn’t seem to be targeting anyone in particular. The thin, grayish tint of the main body extended a ways, out along the southernmost approach. In the midst of the frightened chaos, new vehicles rolled up. The Loktr swarm descended upon them, and the grayish blob coalesced above the first car, turning darker and thicker as tiny stragglers caught up with the main group.

  A voice called out from beneath the swarm. “Hello there!”

  A shimmering form stepped out of the first vehicle, shielding his face with one warmly glowing arm. “Here at last! Can’t tell you how good it feels to finally make it.”

  J.Z. and Liam stood staring, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, at the sudden appearance of a fully formed Xenolight. For that matter, the entire glowing Xenolight group seated in the first vehicle was glowing, in an utterly surreal display. Looking down the convoy, every last one of them were Xenolight. Despite the still-hovering swarm above, Xenos who’d been running for cover began filtering back out of the buildings and vehicles now, staring in amazement.

  The leader looked back at his group, then at the shocked faces in front of him. He smiled. “I suppose an explanation is in order. I’m Tyson, and I represent the Tera-Prime contingent.”

  J.Z. reacted automatically, reaching out to grasp the suddenly solid hand offered to him. “I know who you are,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, I suppose you would,” Tyson replied. He turned to Liam, “And you sir. It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.” Several of the Xenolight nearest the vehicle windows waved and smiled, awkward in their seated, glowing positions. “I’d shake your hand too, but that’s tricky.”

  “Mr. Second Administrator,” Liam said, extending the courtesy of a slight, respectful bow.

  “None of that now. We’re all equals here. Administrator Rois relieved me of my duties a long while ago at any rate, so—”

  “Shooter, No!”

  It was J.Z. Heads turned in his direction, then up to where his eyes were trained. Floating casually toward the swarm, the drone oscillated back and forth, getting a feel for its size and composition. Although he should have known better, the opportunity to examine a swarm up close proved irresistible. A click of Shooter’s onboard camera caused the entire dark mass to flinch — then a long branch of them bubbled out from the center, took aim, and swatted the drone like a baseball.

  The steady hum of Shooter’s little motor turned into a high-pitched whine, and the disoriented ‘bot whirled around in drunken figure-eight patterns. Each time it veered at the swarm, the reaction was the same, flinch-aim-swat, causing further damage to the drone. Shooter spun around, looping, completely out of control, until he finally crash landed in a thicket off to one side of the parking lot. Running for him, J.Z. called out to his little friend, while the rest of the onlookers gasped and chattered about what’d just happened.

  Tyson gazed skyward, shaking his head. “I suppose we should be getting inside.” He looked around the lot, nodding gently to the regular xenos, most of whom had never seen a Xenolight in the flesh, save for a brief glimpse of Alixs. “Our Loktr’s are probably just reacting to the unfamiliar threat, but we can’t be too careful. Better leave them be for a bit. Awfully sorry about that.” He motioned for everyone to make their way in. He hadn’t asked for permission to enter, nor offered to assist with the broken drone. In fact, he didn’t seem particularly concerned with it at all.

  CONCEALING HIMSELF as far back in the crowd as he could, Cain wasn’t able to get a read on whoever had transformed the panic-stricken stampede into a star-struck crowd. But he could hear them. Excited voices carried deep into the facility as Liam, the only voice he recognized, directed them through the crowd and up ‘to meet the first Xenolite’.

  Cain inched his way over to one of the wall monitors. He put his back to the room, such that his body blocked the display, then keyed in a universal override code. The computer revealed little of what was going on, unfortunately, except for one oddity that he couldn’t immediately figure — and that was the incredible power drain this bunch was having on the infrastructure. Beyond the rocket itself, which was in standby mode and not requiring tons of juice, there was nothing else in this place that would warrant the spikes he was seeing. Most of it seemed to be coming from the upper levels. Whatever he was missing, it was to be found up there.

  “HOW MANY MORE ARE WE expec
ting?” Tyson asked casually.

  As soon as they were alone, he had taken a seat of sorts, hovering cross-legged in the air. It seemed odd to Alixs, even though he and the Ahmis had taken such meditative positions from time to time inside the Mind. This was different.

  He felt as though he was being rude to his guest by not following suit, so he floated up to meet him face to face. Liam remained stubbornly on the floor, most of the time at least, and he yanked his limbs out of the floorboards with particular annoyance every time he started to sink. Alixs couldn’t help but wonder if Liam might be more comfortable joining them above the deck, but he didn’t press.

  “According to the latest receptions, we’re coming into the home stretch,” Alixs said, striking a friendly tone with this new arrival. “Shouldn’t be long now.”

  “Good,” answered Tyson. “My sources indicate we might be in for some trouble if we hold out too long.”

  “Oh?” Liam said. He didn’t look particularly impressed, though he had no reservations against intelligence gathering, no matter the source.

  “Could be nothing,” Tyson replied, “but our Loktr scouts have been relaying some disturbing findings these past couple of hours.”

  “Yeah, about those Loktrs...” Liam said, pulling out his sunken legs. “You sure about them?”

  Tyson laughed, dismissing Liam with a handwave. “Compliments of the Mind of Tera-Prime. I don’t think it’d steer us wrong.”

  “She’s not an it.” Alixs said, more terse than he meant to be.

  “Sorry?”

  “The Mind. She’s female.”

  “Oh?” Tyson replied. “I didn’t know that. Interesting.” He didn’t sound particularly interested, though.

  Alixs ignored the offense. “Well, now you know. So, what have your Loktrs told you?”