Diffusion Box Set

by Stan C. Smith

  She nodded again. Then she snorted a nervous laugh. “My boyfriend’s a bunch of particles made by extinct aliens. Big deal.”

  Bobby let out a long breath. He took Ashley’s hand and leaned back, staring at nothing.

  The Lamotelokhai spoke in his head. “Bobby, your behavior is unpredictable and interesting.”

  “Not now,” he said silently. “I’d kind of like to just sit and rest for a while.”

  He then closed his eyes, listening to the air moving in and out of his lungs and feeling the blood pump through his body.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Nine Months Later

  As the sun rose gradually over the horizon, shafts of light pierced the transparent panels over Mbaiso’s new forest and were redirected in all directions at once, creating mesmerizing, multi-colored effects on the treetops and the support beams above. Butterflies, moths, bees, and other insects caught the shafts of light, creating a dancing halo over the canopy.

  Having spent considerable time and effort climbing to the highest accessible beam in his new forest, Mbaiso lay with his belly against the beam’s cool metal, legs hanging off the sides. It was an ideal place to take in a remarkable view of the sunrise from above the entire forest.

  As the sun rose higher, it illuminated the network of hanging tunnels and chambers strung throughout the canopy. They connected every tree in the entire forest, and they were so extensive that visiting them all would take Mbaiso years. The hanging tunnels and chambers had been made by the humans—as were the trees for that matter—and they were much safer than those that Addison had created for Mbaiso’s first colony. Mbaiso’s new forest consisted of 6,000 colonies, all of them sturdily constructed and producing new mbolop at a rate he had never imagined possible. The mbolop in his new forest had food, water, and unlimited raw materials for production. But most importantly, they had a purpose—to assist humans. This was the same purpose Mbaiso had carried out for thousands of years, ever since the creator had formed him from its own particles.

  Finally, Mbaiso stretched and pushed himself up onto his feet on the beam. He liked to spend the early hours of each day engaged in activities of amusement, and today was no exception. Perhaps this morning he would successfully defeat his most recent challenge. With his tail against the juncture of wall and domed ceiling behind him, he gazed out along the length of the beam, which stretched across the entire width of the forest. He couldn’t quite see the other end of the beam, but he knew it stopped at the far wall because he had successfully made it there once before. The beam was barely the width of his body. If it were any wider, it would not have presented an adequate challenge.

  He lifted himself onto his hind legs and started hopping toward the far end of the beam. Having the body structure of a tree kangaroo, Mbaiso was more suited to running than hopping. But, again, he liked a challenge.

  He increased his velocity until he was covering three body lengths with each hop, being careful on each launch to avoid applying too much pressure with one foot, which could nudge him to one side—each hop had to be straight ahead. When he got to the first connected truss, he leapt over it and landed squarely on the beam on the other side. But several hops after that, one of his hind feet slipped over the side, sending him careening so far from the beam that he didn’t even touch it as he came down. He fell through empty space to the canopy, bounced off a hanging tunnel, and continued falling until he struck the ground beside a human-made stream.

  When his consciousness reactivated, Mbaiso lay there next to the flowing water, waiting for his ruptured organs and fractured bones to mend. It was a waste of valuable time. Not only that, but he was unable to reassure the other mbolop that had gathered to stare at him, so it was a waste of their valuable time as well.

  When his body was finally repaired, he got up and signed to the onlookers that he was fine. They did not understand the concept of leisure time or activities of amusement. It had taken Mbaiso centuries to develop a taste for such activities. As soon as their bodies and identities were fully developed, they would be loaded into human-made transport containers and taken elsewhere to pair up with their own humans.

  Mbaiso looked up through the canopy at the beam far above. He would try again tomorrow morning. And the morning after that, if he felt like it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Two Months Later

  Mid-morning was Quentin’s favorite time of day to relax at their home beside the Sittee River in the Stann Creek District of Belize. It was past the early-morning activity of local fishermen in their tiny wooden boats, but it was before the hottest part of the day. Not only that, but Bobby, Ashley, and Addison were required to work on their homeschool projects at this time. Every morning at 10:00, an alarm on Quentin’s watch reminded him to stop what he was doing and go to his favorite chair on the patio in their backyard, where he would read a book. Or talk to Lindsey about nothing important. Or just watch the river in peaceful silence.

  But today the kids weren’t working on their projects, and the backyard wasn’t quiet at all, because Peter and Rose were here, a special occasion. Rose had recently turned eighty-four, and they had come to celebrate with Quentin’s family.

  With Peter and Rose sitting beside him, Quentin watched the others fooling around in the yard. Addison had convinced Lindsey, Ashley, and Bobby to play one of his numerous made-up games. Most of these games involved rules and activities that gave Addison an advantage. This one was no exception, as it seemed to involve climbing trees. Addison also seemed to be benefitting from having Newton’s help as a second pair of eyes. But Lindsey also had a second pair of eyes in Rusty, and she seemed to be giving Addison a run for his money. Quentin had never developed this capability with Plato, and as far as he knew, nobody else had developed this kind of connection with their mbolop. In Mbaiso’s master plan, Addison and Lindsey had apparently been guinea pigs, the first two human-mbolop pairings. Mbaiso then must have altered the configuration of all future pairings. Considering Quentin had seen Lindsey run into walls while she had been distracted by Rusty’s vision, he was fine with not having the capability.

  “Peter,” Rose said, “tell Quentin the news about your roobot factory.”

  “Yes, of course,” Peter said. “We’ve broken ground on a second dome. Southeast of Brisbane. It will be identical to the first—four square kilometers, same configuration of artificial trees and hanging chambers. And the same production schedule, producing another 36,000 roobots per day.”

  “You’re calling them roobots now?”

  Rose smiled. “I believe someone in Canada coined the word. They’re more similar to living creatures than to machines, but the name rolls off the tongue easier than mbolop.”

  Peter went on. “Even once we’ve doubled production to 72,000 per day, it will require over 200 years to create roobots for everyone. And that’s assuming the human population doesn’t continue to grow. Clearly, we’ll need to continue expanding beyond two domes.”

  “But many folks are impatient,” Rose added. “Particularly wealthy folks. Our policy of randomly distributing the roobots enrages them.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Quentin said. People had been on edge since Puerto Rico, terrified that it might happen again. And pairing with an mbolop was the only way to become immune to any malign influence of Lamotelokhai particles. Mbaiso and Sinanie’s tribe had been correct—the mbolop were destined to save as many people as possible.

  Quentin gazed at Rose. She was now eighty-four, the same age as Peter. But Peter had stopped aging when he was forty-one, when he’d stumbled upon the hanging village and the Lamotelokhai in Papua. Rose, on the other hand, truly was eighty-four years old, in body and mind. But today she was more animated than usual, and she had a certain sparkle in her eyes.

  “By the way, happy birthday,” Quentin said.

  She smiled again. “Bless your heart. Until this point in my life, I have dreaded every birthday as a sign of growing older. But I believe I may no longer fee
l such dread from this point on.”

  “You’ve been treated with Lamotelokhai particles!”

  “A lump of clay arrived unexpectedly by post a few months ago,” Peter said. “With a handwritten note from the Lamotelokhai itself.”

  They all paused and looked out into the yard at Bobby. He was staring back at them as if he had known they were going to look. He smiled broadly.

  Peter continued. “It was a gift for Rose. A replacement gift, actually, as I had lost a similar lump of clay it had given me in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.”

  “I was quite skeptical to begin with,” Rose said. “But as you know, Peter can be persuasive. And when he introduced me to Romulus,” she nodded to her mbolop lounging by her feet, “I began to see beyond my wide-eyed fear of the Lamotelokhai. As you and Lindsey now know yourselves, the Lamotelokhai is not inherently malignant or vindictive. It has wondrous gifts to offer, although it must be handled with care.” She gazed down at her withered hands. “At eighty-four, I’m a bit late to the party, I suppose. Nevertheless, I’m quite grateful.”

  This was followed by a moment of silent reflection. Rose would stop aging now, but she could never become young again. The Lamotelokhai’s particles had not entered her body when she had been younger, and therefore they had no template from which to rebuild.

  “Then this truly is an occasion to celebrate,” Quentin said, and he raised his glass of the mango cordial Lindsey had made earlier that morning. “To the expansion of roobot production, and especially to the health of the lovely Rose Wooley.” They clinked glasses and drank.

  Lindsey approached and plopped down in her chair beside them, red-faced and panting from the game. “I saw that—looks like I have some catching up to do.” She took a long drink.

  “Bobby and Ashley seem to be getting on well,” Peter said.

  Lindsey shook her head. “We honestly didn’t think it would last this long. I suppose there have been stranger pairings before.”

  Peter chuckled. “I doubt that seriously.”

  They all turned and silently watched the teens, each of them likely considering their own take on the bizarre romance.

  Addison was high in a tree beside the river bank, imploring Ashley and Bobby to climb up with him. Apparently he wanted them all to jump from the tree into the water. Wisely, at least for Ashley’s sake, they were refusing.

  Addison seemed happy enough, although occasionally he had wandered off the property and scared the hell out of locals passing by on the road. Mentally, he was a normal sixteen-year-old, with a normal set of memories. But he also had a second set of memories blended in, of living as a child-like creature for eight months with a colony of tree kangaroos. Physically, though, he was frighteningly powerful and fast, which was exactly why he continued to reject any suggestion of changing back to his previous human form. He liked feeling powerful—perhaps he needed that feeling.

  Lindsey asked Peter, “Have you heard from Georgia lately?”

  “She’s doing well,” Peter said. “We recently assisted her in procuring a certificate to practice law in Australia, and she is setting up a practice in Brisbane. In fact, Rose helped her choose the location and prepare it for occupancy. They have become tight friends.”

  Rose looked at Peter. “Georgia spent the night with my husband in a confined space. I’m simply keeping a close eye on my competition.” She and Peter both laughed. Apparently they had joked about this more than once. She turned back to Lindsey. “Georgia is a lovely girl. The poor thing lost her family and everyone she’d ever known in Puerto Rico.”

  Peter cleared his throat and glanced at his smartwatch. “Speaking of Puerto Rico, I must confess there is another reason we have come to see you fine folks. If you don’t mind, I’d like your whole family to hear what I have to say.”

  Quentin exchanged a glance with Lindsey. He then called out to the teens. Addison leapt from the tree, dropped at least twenty feet, and landed on all fours beside Bobby. He then stood upright, and the three of them came over to the patio.

  “What’s up?” Ashley asked.

  “Please sit,” Peter said.

  The kids all took a seat around the patio table.

  Peter leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “First I’ll provide a news update on Puerto Rico. I know you folks limit your news intake these days, but some of what I’ll tell you is not readily available information anyway. As you may know, the island is locked in continuous litigation. The initial inclination of US military leaders was to systematically exterminate every creature on the island, to make it safe to inhabit again. This was met with outcries worldwide, from human rights, animal rights, and environmentalist groups. Some claim the creatures there were once human and therefore have human rights. Some claim the creatures represent a plethora of new species, and even long-extinct species, and therefore they should be protected. Some groups have talked seriously of making the entire island a national park, or a massive memorial to the three and a half million who died there. On the other hand, some have talked of making it a hunting resort for the wealthy.”

  “You’re kidding,” Lindsey said.

  Peter shook his head. “And that’s only the beginning. It may be years before the US decides what to do with it. Now, here is the information you probably don’t already know. While Puerto Rico has been stuck in legal limbo, US Army Special Forces units have been combing the island for human survivors. They have rescued only a few thousand people, which is a sobering reminder of the massive death toll. It is also, however, a reminder that Georgia and I were quite lucky to survive.” He looked at Bobby. “If we hadn’t found you at the compound, we would not have made it out.”

  Bobby nodded. He looked down at the table for a moment. “But you have more to tell us.”

  “I do,” Peter said. “Some Special Forces units have recently returned with reports of rather interesting developments—transformed creatures that have banded together in groups, for example. It seems some of the creatures are much more intelligent than others. Perhaps even approaching human-like intelligence.”

  He paused like he was considering what to say next. “Two weeks ago, there was an attack on one of the units. Two soldiers were killed.” He paused again, even longer. “One week ago, a unit of 12 men approached the remains of Helmich’s old compound. They were attacked by a colony of transformed creatures who seemed to be living within the compound. Every man in the unit was killed. But video transmitted from their body cams…. Well, that’s the reason we’ve come here to see you.” He looked directly at Bobby. “Could there have been anything left in that compound?”

  “Anything like what?” Bobby asked.

  “Anything like Lamotelokhai particles.”

  Bobby abruptly sat up straight. For a brief moment his eyes seemed to shift to fire-yellow. “Maybe,” he said.

  Peter continued. “I was approached by General Donovan Vickars. He had been unable to find you folks, so he came to me. It seems you folks are in demand now, particularly for threatening scenarios with certain parameters. I suppose this is because of your rather unique experiences and, well, your connections. Vickars seemed rather desperate for me to ask you if you would be willing to provide assistance once again.”

  Bobby jumped up from his chair. He walked across the yard to a ten-foot-high mound covered by a tarp. He began unfastening the tarp.

  “What’s he doing?” Peter asked.

  Quentin glanced at Lindsey, and she shook her head. She didn’t like where this was going any more than he did.

  “He’s doing something he knows he shouldn’t,” Quentin said.

  Bobby finished removing the tarp, revealing a mound of tiny black and white pea-sized particles. He put his hand on the edge of the mound for a moment and then backed away.

  Even from the patio, Quentin could hear the particles beginning to move. They chittered like millions of tiny crickets, and the mound started shifting.

  A few minutes later, the backyard was dominated by a sle
ek, black aircraft with down-turned points at each end. It was so long that one end hung over the bank of the Sittee River. The aircraft looked exactly the same as when it had first been created, except for one difference. In large white letters on its belly was the name Bobby and Ashley had chosen for it, Miranda.

  Bobby walked back to the patio. He looked at Quentin and Lindsey. “We’ve been hiding here long enough. Now we have a mission.”

  Did you enjoy PROFUSION? You can make a big difference.

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  If you've enjoyed Profusion, I would be extremely grateful if you could take a few minutes to leave an honest review (even a short review would be wonderful) on the book's page on Amazon and/or Goodreads. You could post a review for this entire box set, or you could post a review for the individual Profusion book.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Author’s Notes

  I must first say that in writing Profusion, I intended no disrespect to the people of Puerto Rico. If the story contains any descriptions that are incorrect or offensive, I apologize. And to the people of Puerto Rico: I’m sorry I destroyed your entire island! I wrote this book before the tragic events related to hurricane Maria. As I watched the terrible results of that storm, I considered changing the story in Profusion so that Helmich’s compound would be located on a different island. Eventually, though, I decided against this, as it would drastically change the overall story.

  As in Diffusion, Infusion, and Savage, a good portion of Profusion takes place in Papua, the Indonesian province that makes up the western half of the great island of New Guinea. Sinanie’s tribe of Papuan men and women have characteristics resulting from thousands of years of living with the Lamotelokkhai. Obviously, therefore, I have taken liberties in developing the descriptions of this particular tribe. But I intended no disrespect to the unique cultures of the Papuan peoples by doing so.