The Boy at the End of the World

by Greg Van Eekhout

  The companions’ footsteps echoed as they continued on. It was an empty sound. A lonely sound. Protein walked with his head raised high and his ears flared out. Click’s whirring sounded uneasy.

  The tunnel opened onto a bridge of sorts, or a platform, overlooking a vast, circular chamber. Fisher stepped up to a guardrail and looked over the edge. Dim light filtered down from some unseen source, high above, but it wasn’t enough for Fisher to make out what was down below. He dropped a stone he’d pocketed for later use as slingshot ammunition. It took a while, but the clack of impact sounded to Fisher like rock on metal.

  “We need to find a way down there,” he said.

  “Perhaps there was a staircase once,” Click said, “but if so, it must have collapsed long ago.”

  Fisher walked around the platform. This had to be the Southern Ark, and he wouldn’t let something like the lack of stairs turn him away.

  “Here!” Tied to the bottom of the rail was a knotted rope. Fisher pulled on it and brought up about a hundred feet of mildewed rope made from braided grasses. Knots placed every several feet would provide decent hand- and footholds. Who would have made such a thing? Stragglers?

  “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to—”

  “I believe your personality imprint includes a basic knowledge of gravity,” interrupted Click.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you have seen for yourself what happens when objects fall from a great distance.”

  “Okay, just listen—”

  “Perhaps you lack an understanding of soft-tissue damage. Imagine for a moment dropping your brain from a great height. Or, since you don’t seem to apprehend the dangers of falling, imagine Protein stepping on your head.”

  The mammoth grunted.

  “Click, stop talking. This is what we came all this way for. You know I have to go down there.”

  “But with my damaged knee and Protein’s four-legged anatomy, we cannot come with you. You would have to do so alone.”

  “I know,” Fisher said. “But you can still help me. Well, Protein can, at least.”

  Fisher untied the knotted end of the rope from the rail and looped it around one of Protein’s front legs. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to make the climb both ways,” he said. “But this way, Protein can pull me back up.” He put his hand on the mammoth’s shoulder. “You’ll pull me up, right, Protein?”

  Protein stared at Fisher with his cold-fire eyes. Fisher never doubted the mammoth was intelligent, but his intelligence wasn’t human, and it was impossible to know what he was thinking. So Fisher decided to believe the mammoth understood what he wanted.

  Click whirred. “It is a pity I was not given a stronger body. My ability to help Ark-preserved species survive would be easier if I could physically restrain you.”

  “Just make sure Protein doesn’t go anywhere with my rope.”

  Fisher tucked his hand ax in his waistband along with his resin-dipped sticks and a few of his flint chips. He gripped the rope and began lowering himself, hand over hand.

  “How are you doing, Fisher?” the robot called out after a minute.

  “I haven’t really gone anywhere yet. I’m only about four feet down.”

  “How about now?”

  “If I fall to my death, I promise to let you know.”

  Click hissed.

  By the time Fisher’s feet touched ground, his muscles burned with exhaustion. Shakily, he called up to Click: “I made it! I’m okay!”

  “I am surprised,” came Click’s voice, drifting down. “What do you see?”

  Fisher struck sparks with flint chips and lit one of his resined sticks. The glow only extended several feet around him, but that was enough to reveal a row of long, box-shaped objects elevated off the ground.

  Fisher moved closer.

  The technology wasn’t exactly the same as the stuff in his own Ark, but it looked similar enough for Fisher to be certain: these were birthing pods.

  He took another step closer to them, but then stopped short.

  Birthing pods, yes, but they were dark. And the only noise he heard was the sound of his own hard breathing.

  Fisher couldn’t bear the thought of having come so far, only to find another dead Ark.

  But he had to know.

  Another step closer.

  Then, from above, a trumpeting squeal. The dangling end of the rope skittered across the floor. Protein must be running, and he was taking the rope with him.

  “Click, what’s he doing?”

  No answer from the robot. The end of the rope lifted off the floor. With a running leap, Fisher stretched for it and grabbed on with clenched fingers. He shot up like a striker taking flight. The movement was smooth and too fast for Protein to be causing it. What, then?

  Fisher had his answer as he was hauled over the edge of the platform.

  The rope was held in a claw, and the claw was connected to an arm, and the arm was one of many belonging to a giant robot.

  “Hello, human,” said the machine. “I have been waiting for you.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Click and Protein stood behind the machine. They both looked all right, though Protein’s head shuddered with agitation. Fisher cocked back his hand ax.

  The machine’s surface was some kind of gleaming, black material that seemed to ripple like maggots on rotten fruit. An assemblage of arms and joints rested on hundreds of legs, like a giant millipede. In the middle of the machine’s back rose a curving neck that moved fluidly, like a snake. And at the end of the neck was a face more human than Click’s, but less human than Fisher’s.

  It broke into something like a smile.

  “Hello! I see you have a stone. Do you wish to throw it? Hello!” It spoke not with one voice, but with a thousand little voices.

  “Are you okay?” Fisher said to Click and Protein.

  Protein shivered, as though he might charge.

  “We are unharmed,” said Click.

  “Yes,” the machine said. “I will never let any harm come to you. Hello!”

  “Move out of the way and let me stand with my friends,” Fisher said.

  “Yes, I will do this. Hello!” The machine scuttled back, its hundreds of legs tapping against the plasteel floor.

  Fisher was very aware of all those arms towering over him as he moved past the machine and joined Click and Protein. He rested his hand on Protein’s shoulder to calm the mammoth.

  “What are you?” Fisher said.

  The machine’s smile grew broader. Tiny black things squiggled between its black teeth. Fisher’s underfed stomach squirmed.

  “I am the Intelligence, an I constructed of we. I am many forms combined into a single form. This arrangement allows me to serve humans with great effectiveness. Hello!”

  “Ah, very interesting,” said Click. “You are a composite machine, one machine made of many. I presume you are composed of nano constructs?”

  “Hello, yes!” the machine—the Intelligence—said brightly. A few tiny black wormlike things broke off from one of its legs. They wriggled on the ground for several seconds before returning to the leg and flowing back into it. “Each of my nanobots is made from millions of molecule-sized machines, and I am made of millions of nanobots. Combined, we can assume any shape and perform any function.”

  To demonstrate, the Intelligence became a crane. An instant later, it was some kind of wheeled vehicle. Then, a giant drill. And then it cycled back to its original form.

  “See?” the machine said. “Very useful! Hello!”

  “Why does it keep saying hello?” Fisher asked Click.

  The nano-worms in the Intelligence’s mouth shifted. It looked like a faltering smile. “You have not returned my greeting. Would you like to return my greeting? Hello!”

  Fisher didn’t quite understand the purpose of a greeting. It made sense if you were coming back to camp and wanted to let your companions know you weren’t a predator. Maybe the Intelligence was trying to say it
wasn’t a predator. Or maybe it wanted Fisher to say that he wasn’t a predator.

  Fisher said nothing.

  The Intelligence’s smile grew very wide. “Hello! There is danger.”

  Protein’s ears perked up. Soon Fisher heard it too. A distant noise quickly rose in volume to the now-familiar sound of gadget engines. Strikers were coming, and they were close.

  “Do not worry, human and his unlikely friends! I will protect you! Trust me!”

  Fisher had no reason to trust this strange, cheery, oddly stomach-churning machine. Instinct and reason both told him the Intelligence was dangerous. But his slingshot and hand ax were useless against a patrol of strikers.

  And then the strikers were there, zooming down the tunnel. They opened fire at the Intelligence, guns clacking away. In the confines of the tunnel, the sound was loud enough to hurt.

  “Remain behind me, plucky band of adventurers!” the Intelligence said. The machine widened its body, forming a wall to catch the strikers’ missiles. Then it folded in on itself. Muffled bangs and pops came from inside the machine’s body. When it unfolded itself, spent missile shells clinked against the floor.

  “Hello, primitive little machines!” the Intelligence called out. “You will not harm the human being and his odd cohorts!”

  A cluster of nano-worms flew off the Intelligence like a bee swarm. The worms struck the strikers and wriggled under their metallic shells. Seconds later, the gadgets tumbled to the ground. They lay still, and nano-worms emerged from them, like maggots eating their way out of a dead animal. The worms melded back into the Intelligence’s body.

  “There. Primitive machines of nuisance have been slain and all are safe now for happiness.”

  The Intelligence’s smile grew so wide Fisher was afraid he’d fall into it.

  “Now, come with me for food and shelter,” said the Intelligence. “I will devote my incredible abilities to your comfort and not for harming you. Hello!”

  “Hello,” Fisher said.

  The Intelligence changed one of its arms into a complicated claw and slid back a plasteel wall panel to reveal a cozy, warmly lit chamber. In the center of the floor was a table laden with piles of berries and plump red fruit and wild green vegetables. The food called to Fisher so strongly he imagined he could hear it. Even the table itself made an impression. How did the legs join to the surface? How much weight could it bear? How many times had Fisher wished he’d had something so solid to sit beneath during a rainstorm?

  Off to the side, up against the wall, was piled a heap of leaf-rich tree branches and roots—just the sort of thing Protein loved to munch.

  Fisher’s stomach clenched with hunger, but he resisted rushing the table and wolfing down food.

  “You knew we were coming,” he said.

  “Yes, your approach was visible from many miles away, so I had time to prepare for your arrival. I have been saying ‘Hello’ for quite some time. Please, devour this food. And plug your batteries into my power supply, broken automaton. You will find sockets of various kinds all throughout this structure.”

  Protein began shoveling roots into his mouth, but Fisher still held back. The Intelligence knew what they ate, so it knew what they were. But Fisher still didn’t know anything about it.

  The Intelligence noticed Fisher wasn’t eating. “Are you fearing poisoning? Please don’t. It is my job to protect you and make sure you continue existing.”

  That sounded almost like something Click would say. Click released the smallest of pneumatic hisses. To Fisher, it sounded like a hiss of suspicion.

  “What is this place?” Fisher asked. “And what are you?”

  The Intelligence rearranged the food on the table, as if trying to make it more attractive to Fisher. Its face rippled a grin. “I am the defense system of the Southern Ark,” it said. “For many thousands of years, I have protected my Ark-preserved specimens. Because of me, their continued existence is certain.”

  Fisher’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t find words. Had he really done it? He’d found the Ark, and the Ark had power, its defense system was working, and it hadn’t been crushed to rubble. Did this mean he wasn’t alone? Not the only human left? Not the last? Hope surged through his body, like the boiling water of a hot spring.

  Click clicked. “You are unlike the defense systems from our Ark.”

  “Yes, noisy human-shaped machine, I am far more advanced. But I was not always this way. Once I was many machines made of nano-worms, but all locked into rigid forms. Gates, barriers, detectors, guns. But I altered my programming. And then I changed my form so that I could assume any shape. I evolved. Hello, I am clever! Much more clever than the annoying little flying machines from your Ark.”

  “From my Ark …?” Fisher said.

  “Yes, yes, perplexed human. Did you not know? That is how the defense systems from your Ark evolved, from guns and devices that shot at anything threatening your Ark, to guns and devices that went looking for threats, to guns and devices that became threats. They did not evolve very well, if you are to ask me.”

  “This answers several unknowns,” Click said to Fisher. “It is … what I feared.”

  The defense systems from his Ark had hunted and killed Stragglers. They had tried to kill Fisher. They had destroyed his Ark. Because they had evolved. Or became broken.

  Fisher turned away from the table, the food forgotten. He turned away from the Intelligence and Click.

  “I saw the birthing pods below,” he said. “Where are the humans?”

  “Do not worry, scowling human,” said the Intelligence. “They are very safe. I keep them away from harm, and they will continue forever. Please eat now, so that you may continue as well.”

  “What about the Stragglers?”

  “I am not familiar with this term. This is a kind of animal?”

  “They’re humans,” Fisher said. “From outside my Ark. They came down the Whale Road—the big river—looking for this place. Looking for other humans.”

  The Intelligence’s smile again grew too wide. “Ah, yes, Stragglers. A very apt term for scrappy travelers! All humans are kept away from harm such that they will continue forever.”

  “I want to see these humans,” Fisher said.

  “Soon,” said the Intelligence. “Your presence is a new thing, and new things and humans do not always go well together. Preparations must be made. So, now, please, human-with-growling-digestive-system, eat!”

  Fisher lifted a small piece of fruit off the table. He needed nutrition. He needed strength. He sniffed the fruit and took a shallow bite. It was delicious.

  CHAPTER 14

  While the Intelligence went off to make preparations, Fisher pretended to sleep. He listened to the machine scuttle across the floor of the darkened chamber, slide the plasteel wall panel away, and then slide it back in place.

  He opened his eyes.

  “It is gone,” Click said.

  “Whisper,” Fisher said with a ssh.

  “I cannot whisper. My voice box is not designed for whispering. Whispering requires controlled movement of air through—”

  “Just talk softer, okay?”

  “Ah, yes. Testing volume. Is that soft enough? Testing volume …”

  “We need to get out of this room. I want to go back down to the birthing pods. Also, Protein is starting to make this place stink.”

  The mammoth snuffled.

  “You do not trust the Intelligence?” asked Click.

  “Why would I? It’s an evolved Ark defense system, just like the gadgets.”

  “But its programming has not become corrupt in the same way as the gadgets’. It has not destroyed its own Ark.”

  “We don’t know what it’s done.” Fisher felt along the wall panel. He shoved on it. It didn’t budge. “Help me, Click.”

  Click leaned against the wall and pushed. “I find I am generally not helpful in situations such as this.”

  “Yes,” Fisher said. “I have found that too.”
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br />   Protein ambled over. He touched his broad forehead to the wall and stepped forward. The entire panel fell over with a plasticky crack. Fisher stared at the mammoth, his mouth open. But then he saw that Protein had run out of food. He was probably just hoping to find more to munch outside their closed room.

  “That was much louder than a whisper,” said Click.

  “Yeah. Well, if the Intelligence tries to stop us from looking around, then we’ll know it’s hiding something.”

  They went back out on the platform. The old rope was no longer there. The Intelligence must have removed it.

  “I presume there is another way down,” said Click. “The Intelligence must be able to access the lower level somehow.”

  “Maybe it just oozes wherever it wants to go.”

  But Click insisted there must be an elevator. Fisher’s Ark had elevators, after all, and even if the two Arks had been built at different times and by different people, they couldn’t be entirely unalike.

  The robot began examining the guardrail more closely, all the way around the platform.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Without any other obvious way down, it is possible that … Ah, yes, here.” He tapped something on the rail. With a mild hum, the entire platform descended. Moving without needing the power of his own tired muscles felt miraculous to Fisher. Ancient humans must have had a lot of energy to spare.

  The platform settled on the floor of the lower level with a small clank. The companions stepped off.

  All this noise, but still no sign of the Intelligence. Fisher kept his eyes on Protein. He hoped the mammoth would smell or hear the machine approaching and give warning. And then what? He’d seen what quick work the Intelligence had made of the strikers. And the gadgets had missiles. All Fisher had was his hand ax and a slingshot and his fire-making toolkit.

  Protein moved to a cluster of metal tanks and sniffed.

  “The mammoth will want to be careful with those,” said Click. “They contain cryonite gas. It is one of the components of the gel that keeps Ark-specimens preserved. Combined with other substances, it is safe. But by itself, it is highly combustible.”