by Chris Ramos
“Give me the glove,” Dr. Nigel said. His voice calm. “It’s time for a Receiving.”
With Galen’s tool, he tore the screens back, creating force fields around them, shuffling the rest with such ferocity, the holograms buckled. Trina ran back to her station and pulled updates on population counts, searching for the last nano model forced into expiration. She checked her digiscreen with her message still searching for Tym, unanswered.
“Trina, I know how to stop this!” Dr. Nigel yelled. “The system will not stop expiring until it believes the last model is gone.”
“Right, and everyone is dead.” Trina thought that much was obvious.
“So, we just have to skip a model.”
“How do you think we can do that? Now we are into millions of people for each forced expiration.”
“Unfortunately, some more will have to die. I have calculated that a massive Receiving will take the amount of time to hold back the screens for two more expiration blocks.”
“Then, when the system hits a batch of screens and they are empty, it will believe the expirations are finished!” Trina understood.
“There’s only one catch,” Nigel explained. “The next expiration block is mine.”
“No! There has to be another plan!”
“It’s alright. I can save them.”
Trina saw the screens break out of the glove’s force field. They collected, and Nigel fought them off. She also saw the far left bank of screens listing the nano model 525-9. They were all flagged for a Receiving, and a small blue graph grew next to each name, upgrading them to the next level. Nigel’s plan seemed to be working, as each name was taken off the list and added to the next tier. There were still millions of names to go, but they were filtering off at an incredible pace. She looked over to Nigel. He was sweating now, flipping data, building force-field walls from old information, confusing the database. The technology fought back. It realized there was an obstruction to its orders, and the screens were collecting in the room again. Nigel could not hold them back as the pile grew larger than even he could handle. Swelling to over 320 screens, the edges grew red.
“Nigel! Break them up!” Trina’s heart sank as the screens flashed. She knew the expirations were happening in her city now. Soon it would happen in this room.
“I believe Dr. Nigel has unwittingly stumbled into my fail-safe. If he were a true Sci, he would have seen that coming.”
“What would that be?”
“Millions are expiring as we speak. Nanos across the world are shutting down, and taking their hosts with them.”
“Well, then I can wait for your nanos to die. I have none,” Cole answered.
“That may be so. Unfortunately, I tire of this conversation, as riveting as it was. Today will be your last day on my Earth.” Nimbus’s posture became very limber and he stalked forward, his body perfectly balanced. He swayed with a deadly grace, raising his hand in front of him as he crouched down, fingers stiffened, formed into wedges. Nimbus gathered his internal power, breathing deeply.
This time was different than the last. Cole knew he would not be tossing him around and chatting. The time for talk was over.
Cole had no escape. Looking around the room, he knew he was doomed. Nimbus crept closer. Cole ran to the doorway, clawing at the panel for exit. He looked for cover around the existing furniture, anything he might be able to use as a weapon. Meanwhile, Nimbus continued forward.
Cole knew he had lost. There was no escape. What was he thinking? How could he have hoped to unseat the immortal Nimbus?
Nimbus paused, back leg tense, rising on the balls of his feet. Cole stood less than ten feet away, ready to dodge, if he could. Their eyes locked. With a growl, Nimbus leaped, right arm extended, his hand formed into a wedge, fingers clenched.
It happened so fast, Cole would have had better luck dodging a lightning bolt.
He heard his chest crack as Nimbus struck.
Emma, I’m sorry. Wait for me. I’ll be there soon.
Nigel was exhausted. His head throbbed with concentration. He only had to hold on for a few more minutes. He could see the new group of screens gathering and checked on the progress of his massive Receiving upgrade. It was a race to see which one would finish first.
Either way, I’m gone, Nigel thought. What good have we done today? What freedom is this, with so many dead? Dr. Nigel, the first Doctor in millennia responsible for global genocide.
He threw his hand up. The glove pulsed with energy. Sci Nigel used all of his willpower to move a stack of files 200 thick across the room and scattered them to the floor. Well, that should buy some time. He gasped at the effort.
“The Receiving is almost finished! Nigel, add yourself to that list. You can skip ahead!”
“No, not until everyone is finished. The Receiving is rightfully theirs.” He threw another batch of force fields.
“That’s just it, Nigel. Look at the upgrades! They are almost finished!” Trina was pulling her own statistics up, looking across the globe, sobered by the lack of data. She knew entire countries were wiped out.
She was right; the list had a few hundred left. They were going to make it. Dr. Nigel searched and pulled up his digifile. He knew the next step would be tricky. In order to get his file flipped into the Receiving list, he would have to let go of the massive pile collecting once more. Only for a second. It could spell disaster. What right did he have to save himself, after he destroyed so many?
I can still do good, Nigel reminded himself. I am still a Doctor.
Nigel let go of the barrier. The files rushed out. He grabbed his digifile and flipped it to the Receiving list. When he returned to the forced expiration group, they had combined with three other piles in the middle of the room. Nigel pushed and pulled at the digital mass. He threw force fields. He screamed, and swiped, and waged a digital battle with Galen’s glove, to no avail. The pile grew, file upon file, with the stack five times larger than any before.
Trina saw the desperation in Nigel’s eyes. She looked to the Receiving screen, and the last names jumped over the list. Dr. Walter Nigel was the only name left. Any joy Trina could muster was immediately stolen away as the files dominating the center chamber began glowing red. Dr. Nigel panicked.
“Hold it back, Doctor! You are almost finished with your Receiving!” Trina held her breath with hope.
“Don’t you see, Trina! I am still on this list, with the forced expirations. If the upgrade finishes first, I’m safe, and the Receiving list is empty. If the files force their expiration first, I’m done. Either way, my name empties the list, and the system stops.”
“Your progress bar is almost complete. You are coming with me today. Back to Sci Tym and the Revolution! We need you!” Trina yelled back across the room.
“No, Trina. It looks like you will be traveling alone,” Dr. Nigel stated. The last digifile flipped past him and joined the crimson-edged group. The red intensified. He looked to the Receiving screen. Eighty-two percent complete.
FORCE EXPIRATION.
“Doctor! NO!!” Trina left her station and ran to him.
“I was a good man.” He doubled over. His gut was on fire, his heart screamed. “I was a good man, I was a good . . .” Trina was there, holding his head in her lap. The nanos turned on him, and shut him down. She wept.
The Doctor’s digital nano signature burned off in his model purge. His name was erased from the Receiving board as it reached ninety-six percent completion. The red files emptied as the Doctor withered away. 2,608 screens blinked out with him.
The system jumped to the next model, 525-9, searching for files. With Dr. Nigel’s quick thinking, this entire batch was missing in line. The chronology was broken, and the system paused.
EXPIRATIONS COMPLETE.
Trina cried for the Doctor. She cried with anger and pity. She cried for the insanity of the system. She cried for the dead. So many dead. Her station was still calculating the lost files, reaching over two billion forced expi
rations. She was still crying as light returned to the room and the door swished open.
Sci Tym rushed in, beaten, his clothing torn, dried blood covering half his face.
“Trina, bless the stars, I’ve found you.” Tym stumbled to her. “We have to get out. We were ambushed. They have Cole. I know where he is.”
Nimbus told the truth: Cole was no match.
His force was so powerful, it would have blasted through Cole, which was why Nimbus was so shocked to see Cole bounce away from his punch and slump down against the wall. It was only then that Nimbus recognized the vest Cole wore as a power-absorbing protectant, much like the Collectors’ robes.
Well done, Sci Tym. You bought the boy another minute of life, Nimbus thought. However, where Nimbus had struck was now a small dripping tear in the fabric. A broken container, about the width of a hand, was still strapped into the pouch. Its contents had splattered on Nimbus.
He stood and tried wiping off the black shimmer. What foolery is this? Nimbus stepped back and furiously tried to wipe off the goo. Then he noticed it was moving. The black liquid raced up his arm, faster than water. It climbed Nimbus’s neck, swarming into his eyes, mouth, ears. The nanos in the goo were prepared for one purpose: Destroy Nimbus. They were reprogrammed by Sci Tym and they were very efficient.
Cole was shocked awake by howling. The pitch was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Shrieking with pain, Nimbus pulled at his face and his skin churned. Cole had no sense of reason to the scene in front of him. He felt his chest where Nimbus had struck and saw the broken container. What else was in this vest from Tym? Cole turned each pouch inside out. They were empty, except one, which held a folded piece of paper, torn from a book.
He recognized the writing as Sci Tym’s.
This vest can absorb punches,
so don’t get hit in the face.
Thanks, Tym, Cole thought. He continued reading.
Throw the container at Nimbus.
The bugs are angry at him,
but they won’t hurt you.
Always there for me. Cole rolled his eyes.
Nimbus had stopped screaming and lay still.
Cole crawled over to Nimbus, intent on confirming his death. His skin was tightly stretched across his face. His prominent cheekbones were breaking through, creating gleaming white islands. Nimbus no longer had muscle tone of any kind. His neck and eyes were shriveled away, leaving an empty shell of the once-imposing man. Sci Tym’s ruthless nanos must have eaten him from the inside, at the molecular level. Cole felt his own stomach flip, bile rising in his own throat.
This was a terrible way to go, for anyone.
He laid down on his back, exhausted. He threw his arm over his eyes and tried to think.
“You’ll have to wait a little longer, Emma, wherever you are. Apparently I’m harder to kill than you thought. If only you could see me now.”
What Cole did not see was a slow-moving puddle, iridescent blue, searching for a new union now that Nimbus was gone. The nanos could feel Cole. They knew a life form was close. They were looking for union. They moved together, rolling over one another, working their way towards their unsuspecting host. The swarm leaped up the side of Cole’s face, and poured into him.
“No! Not again, no!” he screamed. He choked on the invading horde. The advancing nanos assimilated organs, muscles and tissues. They bonded with his every cell, flowing through his bloodstream, repairing damaged bones and torn membranes.
When the body was repaired, the nanos entered Cole’s mind.
He tried to fight the takeover, but alas, these were Nimbus’s nanos, which were on a scale far beyond any left on the planet. These nanos were evolved and held the information of ages.
Cole was filled with vast knowledge. A massive Receiving smashed through his mind. Over 300 years of developments, civilizations, inventions, skills, martial arts, technology. Cole was swept away in a torrent of information. He tried to stand, and was knocked back down. He tried to at least get his feet under him, kneel, but he fell down. Cole rolled and kicked. He grabbed at his head and screamed. He yelled to ground himself in the massive hurricane that was Nimbus and his stolen knowledge from forced expirations.
Cole was lost in the storm, and drowning fast.
Cole . . . His name was called, from a distant place.
Cole . . . I’m here. The sound gained momentum.
Come to me. I’ve been here a long while, and can show you the way.
The voice echoed through his very being. It was familiar somehow.
The storm still raged.
Jon pushed his thoughts, took control, and calmed his son.
I’m here now, my son.
We are together again.
Daddy’s here.
Cole was absorbed in his embrace.
EPILOGUE
Under the close watch of Sci Tym and Trina, Cole’s recovery was a series of successes and setbacks. His physical body endured, of course, as Nimbus’s nano strain perfected Cole’s core.
However, his mind continued to battle, unable to cope with near omnipotence.
Weak as he was for the following months, the Revolution carried on.
LifeSpan was thrown into a chaotic company-wide purge, as humanity lost faith in their beloved saviors, and overthrew the Praetors in every sector. Sci Tym had cleansed the nano technology, assuring that humanity was stronger in keeping the nanobots active.
Expirations were abolished, but the nanos remained more efficient than ever.
Yet, through it all, Cole carried the true hope for all of mankind, locked away in his mind. He charged Sci Tym with finding the key.
“Great news! Amazing, really.” Sci Tym was hopping at the end of Cole’s recovery bed. “We have finally finished with the isolation of your cerebellum. Well, the categorizing of data from the thalamus to the right hemisphere . . .”
Cole looked over to Trina.
“We can separate your mind,” she clarified.
“Umm, yes. That’s the simplest way to explain, I suppose.” Sci Tym was still smiling.
Cole sat up in bed. His vision was cloudy, flashing through history, scenes, thoughts, memories, calculations. He paused, closed his eyes, and tried to calm the mental storm. Jon was there to help him form a complete thought.
“If you can categorize the advancements, I want you to arrange for a worldwide Receiving,” Cole said slowly, with a strained voice.
Sci Tym was confused.
“Father, that’s not what we had discussed,” Tym started. “We can remove the information, and once they are sorted, we can decide the best course—”
“I told you not to call me that.” Cole frowned at the title. “Also, we are not deciding anything. The advancements Nimbus hoarded are for the people. Everyone. They are the building blocks of civilization. They are from our greatest innovators, and Nimbus hid them for far too long.”
Trina stepped forth. “I believe there is a way. Nigel talked of a tiered approach to Receivings. Before we were aware of the true nature of LifeSpan, he mentioned a digital file storage, a mini checkpoint accessible inside your mind, unlocked only when you had a desire to access the information.”
“Of course! We could still arrange a massive Receiving of the locked mental files only.” Sci Tym was catching on.
“Then if you wanted to learn about biological sciences, for example . . . ,” Trina started.
“You could access only those files, and digiload to your mind!” Cole finished.
“Genius. We could make it work. I just need to borrow your soul,” Sci Tym joked with Cole. The three of them sat for some time, happy to be in each other’s company. Even though they lamented their losses, they prepared for the great Receiving.
So it was, as it always should have been.
Cole filled the world with knowledge. Pure, organized intellect was absorbed. With Trina’s organization, there was an accessible library within the mind of every nano-carrying human.
It w
as known as Nigel’s Gift, and few could envision a more fitting tribute.