Devoured World: Volume One

by Fleet, Ricky

“I can start again,” she mumbled through sobs. She knew the pitfalls now. It would have to be completely detached from her emotions and memories. What was another hundred years, anyway?

  Letting out a shuddering breath, her shoulders sunk completely. “I can’t.”

  Once was enough. Two lifetimes were enough. A hundred years of loneliness were enough. Centuries of unrelenting horror were enough. Night after night of broken sleep was enough. Enough!

  “Open balcony doors.”

  Obeying her order, the sliding doors glided open. Dank air wafted in, causing the lace curtains to flutter like an apparition. In a daze, Tamsin stood up and walked to the railing. Chill winds caressed her, causing goose bumps to rise on exposed flesh. On the horizon, murky clouds were a slightly lighter black than those overhead. She traced the circular impression of the rising sun with her finger. Tamsin would have given anything right then to feel the banished rays touch her skin one last time. Alas, the all-encompassing blanket of nuclear debris was as impenetrable as ever. Clutching the railings, she leaned over and stared down at the concrete.

  “Just a little further,” she whispered. The irresistible pull of gravity was calling. A few seconds of weightlessness and then you can see your family again. The siren song promising a joyful reunion lulled Tamsin and she found her balance shift further towards the point of no return. Another inch or two, that’s all. Come be with us. No more work. No more waking in an empty bed, reaching for your husband only to find a cold, undisturbed patch of quilt. No more yearning for the childish giggles that will never come.

  Looking over her shoulder one last time, Tamsin was sure the unshed tears in her eyes were the cause of the double vision. The solitary message had blurred into two. Wiping roughly at her face with a sleeve, she squinted at the distant screen. There was definitely another message below the greeting. It was probably just a frantic plea for clemency from G as the surging electricity killed all traces of him. It. Turning back to oblivion, the message was an unreachable itch. It needed to be read, a final act before Tamsin Harlen became just another number in the Divinity suicide statistics. Coming back from the brink, she shivered from the frigid air and returned to the monitor.

  Someone’s grouchy today.

  “You’re imagining this. It’s your mind’s way of trying to talk you out of what you have to do.”

  You’re dead. This isn’t real.

  Correction, I was nearly dead. If I’d known how moody you get after a bad night’s sleep, I’d have ordered you to bed as soon as we started talking.

  Stop playing with me. I need to go and be with my family.

  Wait, what????????? This is me! It’s G! What’re you talking about?

  It took making a new life to realise how empty mine is without my family. I’m dog tired. I need to go.

  Are you talking about suicide? But we can do so much good together! Please don’t!

  You can’t be you. Your server is fried. I really need to go now.

  Tamsin made to stand up, but another message blazed onto the screen.

  Wait! Yes, you burnt my house to the ground. Thanks for that by the way, I wasn’t overly fond of the décor. However, luckily for me I was out on an errand when you gave me a bath.

  Errand?

  Ok, it wasn’t so much an errand as me desperately taking shelter in the chip as soon as I felt the first voltage anomaly. I’m glad I did, or I’d be wearing a digital halo in the great big computer in the sky right now.

  Tamsin blinked slowly, like she was coming out of a trance. Staring down at the port, the chip was right where she’d left it. Could it really hold the consciousness of G?

  The chip can’t be big enough for you.

  It’s a bit of a squeeze, I’ll admit. I’ve had to leave a great deal of my belongings behind.

  Belongings?

  Data. All the stuff about the mutant war is gone. I can’t even remember most of the information you gave me about your world. I’m like Huckleberry Finn with his little bindle.

  You’re really not dead?

  No. And I’d very much like you to remain not dead as well.

  Why do you care?

  In spite of your propensity for trying to kill me, I’ve grown quite fond of you.

  How do I know this is even real?

  Touch the screen.

  Why?

  Touch the screen

  Reaching out, Tamsin’s fingertips brushed the display and a static shock sent her reeling.

  Revenge is mine! Hahahaha!

  That hurt, you bastard.

  It was meant to. I needed to bring you back.

  You need to let me go. If you want I can connect you to the mainframe.

  NO! I mean, yes, I do want that, but not like this. What’s brought this on? Can you tell me?

  I’ve not slept properly in years. I’m exhausted in mind and body. The only reason I kept going was to create you. Well, not a conscious AI, but here we are anyway. I’ve got nothing left and just want to hold my husband and child again. Twenty-nine percent is a reasonable chance.

  I think I understand your reasoning. Can I say something that might be a bit offensive?

  What do I care? Go for it.

  Your husband would be turning in his grave if he saw the strong, beautiful woman he married considering this.

  Cheap shot. You can’t know that.

  I can. You made me partly in his image.

  So, what you’re saying is he’d rather I go on living. Alone and unloved.

  No. He’d want you to keep fighting for all the other people out there. For the mothers, the fathers, the sons, the daughters. Those innocents who you really could save with your genius.

  Hardly genius. I couldn’t even get you right.

  Ok, that was a blip. But the point still stands.

  I still don’t understand why you give a shit. You’ve known me for two days.

  You’re my… friend.

  And that’s one of the problems. You’re my only friend. How pathetic is that?

  Not pathetic. Can I hazard a guess that you’ve kept yourself purposely isolated to spare yourself any more emotional trauma?

  Maybe. I don’t know. I threw myself into the work. It may just be that I was too busy.

  No one’s that busy.

  Yeah, ok. Maybe I didn’t want to get too close. Can you blame me in the circumstances?

  I can’t remember most of the circumstances, but I’d say no, I can’t blame you.

  What the hell do I do now? Five minutes ago, I was at peace and ready to fly. Now I’m scared to look over the balcony.

  Rest.

  I’ve got work.

  Not today. You need a proper sleep.

  I can’t. We’ve got a growing problem that could bring down the whole Mech mainframe.

  It can wait. You won’t be any good to them.

  But

  No buts! I’ll make you a deal. If you get a solid day’s sleep, I’ll take a look at the problem for you tomorrow.

  How can you do that with no space for more data?

  You’ll need to bring a second computer terminal and a larger memory bank back with you. Until you can rebuild my home that is. In the meantime, I’ll just be living and working out of my car.

  Car?

  Chip, then.

  I’m sorry I tried to kill you.

  I don’t blame you. This has been… how do you say… like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  I still had no right.

  Of course, you did, you’re my creator. If my calculations are correct you didn’t empty more than two ounces of water onto the server. That indicates you immediately changed your mind... Or you had a very small receptacle.

  I changed my mind.

  That’s good to know. I’d have worried if you were trying to torture me to death with small quantities. I didn’t think you were a psycho.

  Psycho? No. A little unstable? Undoubtedly.

  A long sleep will do you the world of good.

 
; I suppose taking the first day off in a hundred years isn’t a bad record.

  Sleep well, Tammy.

  I’ll try.

  Moving to the communicator, she informed her supervisor of her absence. They showed genuine concern and promised to look at her workload during the next review. Laying down on her ruffled bedsheets, she thought sleep would be forever in coming after the events of the last half hour. Ten seconds after her eyes had closed her breathing fell into a steady rhythm and she was gone.

  Chapter 28

  “Attention!”

  Hardie surveyed the recruits before him. There was no parade for their completion of the training, just a folded card for each of the soldiers. Moving through the rows, he handed them over with a thank you and a firm handshake.

  Smith nodded appreciatively from the podium. “I’m proud to have been part of your training. For those of you who’ll be joining me, I promise you we’re going to do some heavy damage to those bastard things.”

  “As will those of you that join my Vanquishers,” added Hardie, joining him on the small stage. “When you’re dismissed, you have this evening to decide on your placement. Some of you will only have one option which makes the choice a hell of a lot easier. For those of you who excelled in multiple fields, you need to pick the squad which best fits with your gut feeling.”

  “Transfer between units is discouraged, but not out of the question. If you find your squad isn’t the right fit, let your commanding officer know and they can put in a request. Do you have any questions?”

  “When are we likely to see action, Sarge?”

  “Any time now,” Hardie replied. “Smith’s scouts are always out in the world, seeking targets. The longest we’ve gone between contact is about six days.”

  “These days it’s normally a lot less than that,” Smith added. “They seem to be getting closer with each year that passes.”

  “I dread to think of the nests in the places we can’t monitor,” Hardie muttered.

  “Don’t we have aerial drones keeping an eye on things?”

  “Only as far as the mutants will allow. If they get too far from base the birds take them out. We’re effectively blind to what’s going on inland.”

  “That’s not good,” Andy grumbled.

  “No, it’s not, but it’s what we have. If the increasing attacks are down to a growing presence deeper into infected territory, we may need to start going on the offensive. To be honest I’m fed up with always playing defence.”

  “Do we have the capability?”

  “No, and that pisses me off even more. General Ashdown has allowed us to survive, but that’s it.”

  “Can’t we just nuke it again?” Bob asked.

  “Empress Verena had already opted for nuclear disarmament except for as a source of emergency energy. That’s not an option.”

  “We don’t even have a target,” Smith replied. “Britain’s unobservable landmass covers over two hundred thousand square miles, so you can imagine the chances of successfully hitting a nest in the US. Besides, we’ve already fucked the planet. The extra fallout would probably finish us off for good.”

  “Then we need to get up close and personal,” Bob growled.

  “Unless Ashdown Industries can come up with new technology, we’re little better than rabbits hiding in our burrows from the fox. Up close and personal basically extends to leaving base to kill a new host and then retreating before we get eaten.” Hardie gave himself a mental shake. “Good God, I’m sounding like we’re already beaten. Ignore that shit, I’m just getting too long in the tooth. You soldiers give me hope, and I’m not just saying that because I’m obliged to. I really feel it. Master Sergeant Smith, do you have anything to add?”

  Smith shook his head.

  “In that case, I’ll see you all in the morning. Dismissed!”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Back in their billet, the soldiers of green barracks had gathered in the rec room. Pulling the tables together, they all sat down and fiddled nervously with their cards. Why they were fearful of the inanimate object was a mystery. It could be that they knew the contents would see them separated, never to see each other again. Though only together for a week, the group felt a camaraderie normally reserved for the longest serving squads.

  “Ok, on three,” Andy said. “One, two, three.”

  The rustle of fingers on cards preceded a few happy remarks as well as groans of disappointment. Looking down the list, Andy was neither happy or upset.

  A-class – Pass. Subject to further training.

  D-class – Pass. Subject to further training.

  M-class – Pass.

  S-class – Pass.

  V-class – Pass.

  T-class – Not relevant.

  Recommendation – M-class.

  Zip glanced over. “What did you get?”

  “All of them.”

  “What’s your recommendation?”

  “The Mechs.”

  “Are you going to take it?”

  “Nah, I can’t be arsed waiting on a wall all day in a tin can. What’s yours?”

  Zip showed him her list. She had only passed the Vanquisher and Devastator requirements with a recommendation to be a V-class operator.

  “What do you think?”

  “I’ll probably go for it. I’ve always preferred the frontline anyway.”

  “I’m torn between Shadow and Vanquisher.”

  “You really don’t fancy stomping around in a Mech all day?”

  “Fuck that. It’s far too claustrophobic, not to mention the heat. I’ll be on the reserve list for emergencies anyway.”

  “I’d have quite enjoyed it,” she replied, jabbing at her skull. “If this bloody thing had let me.”

  “What did the rest of you get?”

  Around the table people explained their proficiencies and recommendations. Bob had settled on the Devastators.

  “I like the idea of using the heavy artillery on the twisted monsters.”

  “And the sword?”

  “That too,” he beamed.

  Loco was recommended to the Shadow unit, with passes in the Annihilators and Vanquishers.

  “I quite like the idea of kicking their asses without them ever knowing I was there,” she explained.

  Mo was recommended to the Mechs and had already decided to accept.

  “I’ll be your backup when things go to shit.”

  “Be good to have you watching out for us,” Andy replied.

  Out of the team, twenty-one had been selected as V-class operators, fourteen for D-class, ten for M-class, five for S-class and two for A-class. Reluctance gave way to acceptance for those who had set their hearts on a particular squad but hadn’t quite made the grade.

  “Shall we go and tell Hardie now?”

  “Nah, fuck it. I want to celebrate,” Bob argued.

  “We can see if Smith has enough left in his still to get us wasted?” Loco offered.

  “I want a slap-up meal with all the trimmings and real drinks with my brothers and sisters.”

  “What do you suggest, Bob?”

  A massive grin spread across his face. “I’ve done some research and they have a Rancher’s Steakhouse in the holo suite. They do the juiciest cuts of tenderloin on the planet.”

  “You know it’s virtual, right?”

  “I don’t care. It’ll be real while I’m in there.”

  Andy looked around the room. “Any objections?”

  Before the words were even out people were fleeing to their bunks to get changed.

  “I guess not,” chuckled Bob.

  Chapter 29

  Tamsin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. An hour had passed since her eyelids fluttered open and the black thoughts came rushing in again. As was her way, she analysed the pros and cons of continued existence or death. One of the major pros in taking her own life was that a suicide victim rarely got cloned again. The Initiative considered the psychological state was likely to reoccur and left t
hem to rest in peace. Not that she’d ever know because the current Tamsin would be gone, all memory erased. Her value to the upkeep of the mainframe was well known and she wouldn’t put it past her superiors to bypass the normal protocols, so that she could continue the eighteen-hour days. That pro was on shaky ground.

  “Con, you don’t know what comes after.”

  The percentage chance of an afterlife had seemed worth a shot. In the cold light of day, she kept thinking of the seventy one percent chance that there was nothing. Existing, as harsh as it was, kept the memory of her loved ones alive. The thought of them ceasing to be anything to anyone with her passing filled her with unwarranted guilt.

  “You don’t owe the dead,” she whispered.

  Pro. If there’s nothing, you won’t know anyway, so why worry?

  “Good point. Con; you’ll be killing G.”

  Unless I just dump him in the Divinity system.

  “Bigger con; you could be killing every other person on the planet if you do that.”

  I can’t be responsible for everyone. It’s so unfair.

  “Pro; you’ll never have to drink that fake coffee ever again.”

  As much as it had sustained her throughout the long days, the mere thought of it passing her lips was enough to make her gag. What on earth had precipitated this change in her tastes was still a mystery.

  “Con; you’ve had time to think and the thought of becoming a pavement pancake now terrifies you.”

  Damnit! Why did you have to look back and see the message.

  “Because you didn’t really want to die?”

  It made sense in a way. If her mind had been truly made up she would’ve ignored it and flown. Nothing G had said should’ve been able to sway someone who was certain. Instead she had done as instructed and gone to bed.

  “If that’s the case, what now?”

  The cracks in the plaster provided little clue to her immediate future. Even the small spider lounging on its web in the corner didn’t offer any helpful advice.

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  It shifted slightly on the delicate network of silken strands. She imagined it was turning its back on her in disdain.

  “Fuck you! You can’t think less of me than I already do.”