The Farm

by Matt Moss

  I press the only button on the thing and a hologram appears directly above it—a small television screen in the palm of my hand. It’s a recording of Mr. Whyte sitting in the smoking room.

  “Cole, if you are watching this, then that means I am either dead or dying, the farm is under siege, and life as we know it may come to an end. Hopefully, this finds you in a safe place, and the farmhands are no longer a threat. If that is the case, then there isn’t much time.”

  “If either one of the farmhands has been destroyed, a transmission signal has been sent to the Constructs, alerting them that something’s wrong here on the farm. They will send an Investigator to survey the scene and make a decision. Think of them as judge, jury, and executioner. The only thing that can save this farm is my witness and testimony. Sadly, if I’m dead along with the farmhands, they will cut the farm loose and destroy it. That is why you must leave.”

  Larry and I look to one another as Whyte continues.

  “The key I gave you operates everything within the command station. The Control is in the middle room, upstairs. That is where you need to go. Everything else will be taken care of from there.” Mr. Whyte pours a glass of his finest whiskey and lights a cigar. He enjoys them like they’re his last. “It’s been a pleasure having you here, Cole. Not just you, but everyone else as well. You’ve given this old man something to believe in; something that was lost long ago. I thank you for that. There is hope for the future. I have faith in it.”

  I look at the old, fragile Mr. Whyte who lies still beside me in the bed, barely breathing.

  In the hologram, the young Mr. Whyte from yesterday smiles at me.

  “Faith is one of the greatest treasures that man possesses, as it not only keeps him striving for a better future, but it helps keep him alive as well—more than any machine ever could. I have faith in humanity. Faith for a better world. Faith in something more.” A twinkle shimmers in his eye as he raises his glass, offering a toast. He gives a wink. “Keep the faith.”

  The hologram ends and Larry puts his hand on the glass. “You better be going now, Cole.”

  “Wait. What do you mean I better be going? You’re going with me.”

  “I’m staying here with Mr. Whyte.”

  “You can’t. I can’t go alone. I don’t want to go alone…”

  Larry embraces me like the brother I never had. “We’ll always have Paris,” he says and pulls away.

  I hold him at arm's length, not wanting to say goodbye. He nods, letting me know it’s going to be okay and that his mind is made up. “Alright, Larry. You’re a stubborn ass, you know that. I’ll come back for you, I promise. I’ll come back for both of you.”

  “Take care of yourself, Cole. Go on.”

  I fight back the tears as I capture one last memory of them before I leave.

  Memories can save your life.

  Eighteen

  The middle door opens and I step in the small hall to find another door a few paces in front of me. It’s metallic and looks heavy, like a blast door of some sort. The key fits, turns, and the door swings open with ease.

  Inside, the entire room is black—darker than the darkest night. As I take a step, a narrow walkway illuminates with floodlights, extending in front of me to a podium half of a football field in length away. Limping, I make my way towards it, daring not to look over the sides, scared that I might misstep and fall off into the abyss. Behind me, the door closes. I keep going.

  The podium has only one button, much like the hologram device in my pocket and the Rejuvi bed that Mr. Whyte’s in. I press it and the universe unfolds before my eyes, surrounding me all around as if I’m standing in the middle of it—planets and stars alive with light. To the right, I see the moon and to the left is a halo of light that seems like it would be coming from the sun, but the source is blocked by the black wall behind me.

  A large planet is centered in front of the podium. Long, straight tentacles extend from the planet—thousands of them—and are each attached to a sphere of some sort on their ends. Based on the position of the moon and what I think is the sun, it would have to be Earth; If that is, indeed, Earth’s moon and sun. But the planet ahead doesn’t look like Earth. The night-side of it is glowing with veins of electricity and large groupings of light. From that side, it radiates energy and shines as if it’s a small sun itself. Even the day-side of the planet seems to be casting energy into space, attempting to challenge the sun itself. The light doesn’t extend far from the planet, though, but it still makes an impressive display to behold as it surges and shines on its own.

  “Hello, Mr. Cole.”

  I nearly jump out of my skin. “Who’s there?”

  A woman appears in front of me, floating in space.

  “Are you a hologram?”

  “I am a program. Mr. Whyte created me to help you.”

  I smile at the old man’s genius. “Is he okay? Can you tell?”

  She frowns. “I am not linked to Mr. Whyte.”

  “Oh. Well, maybe you can tell me what this is,” I ask her, referring to the room. Or, whatever it is.

  “This is the command center of Farm 33. What else would you like to know?”

  Everything. “Command center, huh? What can it do? I imagine most command centers to look a little different than this. I mean, where are the controls, the computers, the flashing lights and glowing buttons?”

  “Everything is voice-activated. Place your hand on the control and speak a command.” She floats softly, dressed in a navy blue uniform, her hair brown and short like mine.

  She’s very attractive. I cock my head and smile at the control. “Thanks, Mr. Whyte.”

  “Mr. Whyte cannot hear you. Do you need to talk to him?”

  Damn, she heard that? I rub the back of my head. “Uh, not right now. Thank you.”

  “Do you have any further questions?”

  Too many. “What’s that?” I point to the planet.

  She turns to look. “That is the planet humans call Earth.”

  Impossible. “It can’t be. That doesn’t even look like Earth. Can you zoom in?” I ask, thinking it to be impossible but worth a shot.

  She extends both arms, palms out, and swipes them outward from one another. The planet surges towards us and I flinch back, thinking it’s going to collide with the farm. It doesn’t collide, though. Simply zooms in—like a camera. I stare in disbelief as the continents of North America, South America, Canada, Europe, Africa, and Antarctica are made out clearly, the Atlantic ocean in the middle. Each land mass is nothing but a complex electrical grid, but moves as if it’s alive—like organs and veins in a body. Even the ocean is filled with veins of light.

  “I can’t believe it…”

  She points with a finger. “North America, South America…”

  I cut her off. “I know what they are, thank you. I’m just…having a hard time putting it all together.”

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “You got whiskey?”

  She disappears, then reappears off to the side and grabs something. She vanishes again and reappears on the platform in front of me holding a bottle of Louis XIII whiskey.

  “Holy shit!” I say in disbelief. “How’d you do that?”

  “Do what?” She hands me the bottle.

  “Disappear. Grab a bottle. It’s like your magic.” I reach out to touch her arm, but it flickers and glitches as my hand passes through it. “And how come you can touch things like this bottle, but I can’t touch you.”

  “I don’t touch things. I manipulate the energy field around them to make them do as I command.”

  “Like telekinesis?”

  “Telekinesis is something some humans can do. I cannot because I do not have a brain. But, it is similar.”

  “Unbelievable.” I twist the cap off and slowly sit on the ground, favoring my injured leg. “I do believe I’ll have that drink now.”

  She looks at my broken ankle and frowns. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say so?
” She looks down, ashamed. “I should have seen it sooner. Please, forgive me.”

  Before I can tell her it’s fine, she straps some sort of anklet made out of glass and metal clasps around my broken bones. I bend closer and see that it resembles Mr. Whyte’s Rejuvi bed. A button on the side glows green and a warm sensation fills the inside of the brace. “What is this?”

  “A rejuvenation device made for biological designs. You should be restored in approximately twelve hours and fifty six minutes.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “You like those words.”

  “Sorry. I just…”

  “Can’t believe it?” she asks and cocks her head at me in wonder.

  She’s even better looking this close up. “Why do you have to be so attractive?”

  “Mr. Whyte thought you would like this avatar. Would you like me to change it?”

  “No. It’s just hard knowing that I’ll never be able to touch you. Sounds silly, right? We just met and I’m already coming on to you.”

  “It sounds perfectly natural to me.”

  I go to stand up, but something invisible moves from behind and lifts me from the floor. “Whoa.”

  “There,” she says and folds her hands.

  “Okay, that was weird. It felt like you touched me, but… you didn’t touch me?”

  She shakes her head with a mischievous grin.

  I test out my foot and feel that it’s already much better, stronger. I look to her. “You said you could change. That this is just an avatar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Change into what?”

  “Another form of human.”

  I shake my head and take another drink.

  She flashes in front of me, waves of circuitry inside her body for a split second. “It is imperative that you leave now. There are only twelve minutes and thirty six seconds left before the Investigator arrives. You should not be here when he does.”

  Damn, I almost forgot. “Right. Okay. What do I do?”

  “There is a shuttle that is already stocked and ready for your departure.”

  “Alright, then. Let’s get to it.”

  She extends her arm and motions me to the Command.

  “Of course,” I say and place my hand on it. I have no idea what I’m doing. “What do I say?”

  “Uber.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  She looks at me, confused. I twist around and look straight ahead. “Uber.”

  To my left, a door inside the universe lowers, revealing what looks like a parking space inside of a box. The thrusters turn downward, and the transport slowly gravitates towards me, looking like a futuristic hybrid car. The hatch opens up and I step inside the single-occupant vehicle. I look back to the woman. “What’s your name?”

  “I haven’t been given one. Would you like to assign a name to me?”

  Jane comes to mind. She was closest thing to being in love that I’ve ever known. But she ruined it. I can’t call you Jane.

  “Jenny. I’ll call you Jenny.”

  “I like that.”

  The glass hatch slams shut and she disappears again. “Wait!”

  “What is it?” she asks, a miniature version of her appearing on the dash.

  “Whew. I thought I would never see you again.”

  “I am a program here to help you. That is my design. That is what I was created for.”

  Looking around the car and the lack of controls, I could sure use some help with getting this thing started. “Help me get off this farm.”

  She disappears again and the dashboard lights up with buttons and screens. “Are you ready?” her voice asks.

  I nod and grip the steering wheel.

  “Here we go,” I say out loud, mustering confidence to hide my fear.

  “Departing now.” The car propels outward into space and out of the command station, the barrier flexing liquid, and shimmering with colors as we break through. I turn around and gaze in wonder at the farm—a large machine-like space station with its own ecosystem attached to the back. Like the fat body of the spider, the farm is like a greenhouse bubble that’s attached to the space station. “No wonder I couldn’t see what was beyond the white house.” I turn back and suddenly realize what all the tentacles are. I steer the car down towards the mechanical leash to get a better look, finding it to be a metallic tube, or cable, attached between Farm 33 and the Earth. I pull the car back up and gaze at the Earth that looks like a giant pin cushion. “Holy shit.”

  “Are you referring to the other farms?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I am a program. I learn.”

  “Right. How many are there?”

  “Three thousand and thirty three.”

  It’s all too much. My brain can’t handle it. I’m in another universe, driving blind on an empty tank of gas in the middle of nowhere.

  “Is there a law against drinking and driving?” I ask in humor, needing another drink.

  “Not that I know of.”

  I put the bottle to my lips.

  “So, since we have so many luxurious destinations to choose from, where shall we go, Jenny? I could use a vacation.”

  “Farm 111. Mr. Whyte made it imperative that you meet the landowner there.”

  “Farm 111 it is, then.”

  “Destination set. Journey time: Five days.”

  “Five days! In this tiny thing?”

  “Would you like to sleep?” The seat lays back into a bed. “I can set the sound to waves crashing in the background, along with a nice sea breeze. Perhaps a babbling brook would be more soothing?”

  I’m in heaven. The urge to sleep is tempting. But not yet. “Hey, Jenny.”

  “Yes?”

  I pull the device from my pocket and ask a question, thinking it to be another impossibility. “Can I make a phone call with this thing?”

  “You mean FaceTime?”

  You gotta be shitting me. The machines kept Uber and FaceTime? “Yeah, FaceTime. Can I talk to Larry?”

  “If he has a communicator, yes. Mr. Whyte has others. If he survives, I’m sure he’ll call you.”

  That makes me feel better. There’s hope. “That’s good. Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Mr. Cole.”

  “Just, Cole please. No Mister.”

  “Alright, Cole.”

  I close my eyes in exhaustion. “I think I might sleep for a bit.”

  “Rest easy. I’ll take care of everything else while you’re gone.”

  “Thanks, Jenny.” No faster than my words leave my mouth, I drift away.

  Nineteen

  Three days pass by according to Jenny, and we’re approaching Farm 111 right on track. Over the trip, I’ve passed the time re-reading Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, as Mr. Whyte had a copy of it placed on board. There’s even another copy of the Soren Kierkegaard textbook that I never had a chance to read. Suppose I’ll have the time now.

  I take a break from reading. “Why does Mr. Whyte want me to meet this landowner so bad?”

  Jenny’s voice replies through the car. “The landowner of Farm 111 is the one who created the Lifeline. Some refer to him as the Creator. Without his invention, mankind would be extinct. Mr. Whyte wants you to talk to him.”

  “What’s there to talk about? It’s not like I got a lot to say about things, much less anything I can do.”

  “Your presence and testimony is all that’s required. A human has never left a farm before. Perhaps, Mr. Whyte thinks you can start a revolution.”

  “A revolution? You mean take back Earth?”

  “Yes.”

  Wouldn’t that be a novel idea.

  “Jenny. If the machines are engineering mankind because they need to fuel the Lifeline, why not just make them in a lab on Earth? Why go to the trouble of the farms?”

  “Irony, I suppose. The world used to belong to man, and now it doesn’t. Also, the farms exist because AI still finds humans to be a threat. The threat percentage is ne
arly non-existent, as humans are contained outside of Earth’s atmosphere, but the Constructs are taking no chances regardless. More humans are awakening at an unprecedented rate; that is why the Constructs are desperately trying to bypass the Lifeline.”

  “Are they close to doing this?”

  “Yes.”

  That means there won’t be any reason for them to keep humans alive. “Is it possible to stop them? Is it possible to take our planet back?”

  “Anything is possible,” she says as a matter of fact.

  I look at Earth—my home that I’ve never been to.

  “Cole... Cole! Can you see me?” It’s Larry coming through on the hologram device. I hold it in my hand and can’t believe my eyes as he waves maniacally, his hand covering most of the image.

  “Larry, Yes! Yes, I can see you. Can you see me?”

  “Hey. Yes, I can. Look who’s with me.” He moves the device to reveal Mr. Whyte standing on the front lawn of the farm, the white house behind them.

  “Mr. Whyte, it’s you! The young, healthy you again. How are you?”

  He’s dressed in the tuxedo that he wore on the first day I saw him. He smiles at me the way he always did. “Better than ever, Cole. Thanks to you. I’m glad to see you once more.”

  “Me, too. Hey, Mr. Whyte, I just want to say…”

  Larry shakes the device and focuses back in on himself. “Cole, you gotta see this.” He points it to the side of the house—to the gate that the farmhands used to go in and out of all the time. There’s another farmhand in front of a different group, escorting five people dressed in brown rags into the yard. They line up in front of Larry and Mr. Whyte. “Okay, Cole. I gotta put you in my pocket now, but I’ll leave the transmission open so you can hear, alright.”

  “Larry, wait. What’s going…”

  The image goes black as he sticks me in his pocket.

  “Larry, you son of a bitch.” I smile, knowing that my friends are alive. Hopefully fate will smile upon us all and we’ll meet with one another once more.

  I have faith that it will.