by P A Vasey
“Oh, now you’re going for the Tony Stark look?” I said, still annoyed.
Cain seemed to find this funny. I didn’t. I folded my arms and looked at them both, my face darkening. “Right, so now’s the time to tell me what the fuck you’ve both been doing while I’ve been out of the picture.”
Cain looked contrite and nodded. “When Adam found me I was dying. My systems had begun the slide into senescence and I was preparing to undergo a machine version of apoptosis.”
I knew this one. Apoptosis was programmed cellular death, what some of the body’s tissues did when they were unable to proliferate and grow. My microbiology tutor at med school had called it ‘cellular suicide’.
Cain waved at the wall and a hologram appeared showing a wintry landscape, all snow and rocks and flattened grasses. Scattered around haphazardly were dozens of Adam Benedict machines, snowdrifts starting to cover them up.
“I too, was aware that all the machines around me were dead,” he continued. “The black holes powering them were inert, but shielded. Furthermore, I could not sense any Vu-Hak, not a one. Not even the Vu-Hak which had been commanding my machine.”
“But you were still alive?” I said.
Cain gave a slight shrug. “While self-preservation was foremost in my programming, the damage had been significant. I was preparing to die.”
“Which is when I found him,” said Adam, softly, regarding Cain with an almost benevolent expression.
“You saved his life?” I said.
Cain looked at me and nodded. “Adam set me free.”
Adam acknowledged this with a shrug. “I extricated his mind from the controlling programming of the Vu-Hak and gave him the ability to self-determine. I replaced his – his machine’s – existing neural networks with self-replicating software capable of surfing both virtual and non-virtual worlds, free from the limitations of the Vu-Hak’s baseline algorithms. His neurological growth was exponential. He became sentient within hours.”
There was awe in his voice. After all he’d seen, I got the feeling that this was the most profound thing he’d encountered. He was probably correct.
He’d given birth to a new, unique sentient species.
“Did you name him ‘Cain’?” I asked.
Adam gave a quiet laugh. “No, he took that name himself, I found the irony quite amusing. After all, the biblical Adam was the father of all humankind, was he not?”
Cain obviously found this funny. “And to continue the religious theme, the Vu-Hak are, by any definition, gods.”
“God-like,” I shot back. “I can’t imagine humans worshipping them, can you?”
Cain pursed his lips. “There is the theory that if your god exists he is an ‘evil’ god. A god who allowed your holocaust, genocides, world wars, and the starvation of entire nations to occur on his watch.”
I agreed. “A god who either cannot stop evil, or can, but chooses not to, is not a god worth worshipping.”
Then Adam said something that surprised me. “It doesn’t matter. Humanity’s time on Earth is at an end. The seventh extinction on this planet is unstoppable.”
I frowned. “The seventh?”
“There are six defined extinctions, the current one is known as the ‘anthropogenic extinction’ – humanity wiping out at least seventy-five percent of all other species within a geologically short period of time. This is considered the most abrupt and widespread extinction since the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event, sixty-six million years ago.”
“You’re referring to the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs?”
“Yes,” he said, and turned back to the hologram, which was still showing images of the dozens of inert machines getting covered in snow. “The seventh mass extinction – this time of humanity and all other species on this planet – will be brought about by the Vu-Hak.”
I looked at them both, back and forward, like a spectator at a tennis game. “But we’re going to stop them, right? I mean, you’ve got this ship and its amazing technology, and more importantly they don’t have the machines. They’re just floaty ghosts. You can destroy them.”
Adam gave a slow shake of his head, and his voice was measured and sad. “No. It is just a matter of time before –”
There came a chiming from behind us, like one of those wind-bells on a wooden deck. Cain turned and waved a hand at a wall, which activated a rectangular display not unlike a large flatscreen TV.
“Before what?” I insisted.
Adam had also joined Cain as an image started to pixelate into view on the wall. It was a television news channel, slightly out of focus and flickering as if the signal was suboptimal. Which it probably was given that we were miles under the surface on the other side of the moon.
I recognized the logo for CNBC. A lectern with the seal of the President of the United States was center stage, empty but bookended by secret service agents, uniformed generals and other besuited staff. A couple of large screens were on the wall behind them, displaying pictures of the White House.
Along the bottom of the screen ran:
WHITE HOUSE NEWS CONFERENCE IMMINENT, ALL PROGRAMMING SUSPENDED.
“What’s going on?” I said.
Cain turned to me, and his face looked somber. I felt a chill coming over me, and if I could have produced goosebumps, they would have studded my skin like melanomas.
“This is not good,” he said.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“It’s starting,” said Adam.
A familiar figure appeared on screen. Smoothly combed sandy blond hair, not handsome but not ugly, old but not elderly. He awkwardly climbed to the podium, his belly getting in the way as he turned sideways to get past the line of generals and aides and secret service agents.
The President of the United States.
I turned to Adam, who was also watching intently.
“Any ideas?”
His fingers were steepled and touching his lips. “I detect … deception. All is not what it seems.”
Cain brought up the audio as the president began to speak. He was leaning on the lectern, his bright red tie cutting an incongruous distracting vertical stripe down the center of the screen. He appeared to be reading from notes rather than an autocue. His voice sounded like it had traveled past vocal cords of stippled wallpaper as a result of well-documented years of smoking and alcohol.
“Thanks everyone for coming at short notice. I’ll be brief and won’t be taking questions. The perpetrators behind the co-ordinated attacks around the globe on government facilities, which have resulted in hundreds of fatalities, have been apprehended. Three individuals are now in custody at the Pentagon, and are providing essential information as to the network of terrorists around the globe that they have been running. I have the misfortune to tell you that they are ex-US government employees.”
The screens behind the lectern changed and three police mugshots appeared. Looking bloodied and bruised, Hubert, Stillman and Matt Hamilton’s pictures were beamed out to the world.
I felt sick.
Hubert looked twenty years older, his hair askew, bags under his eyes, staring down at his feet. Stillman’s left cheekbone was swollen and shades of purple turning yellow, but she looked defiantly up at the camera. Hamilton appeared dazed and gaped blankly at the camera. His face was lumpy and one of his eyes was bloodshot.
The president kept talking, his gravelly voice now getting under my skin like nails down a blackboard.
“These individuals, previously employees of the federal government, have co-ordinated a treasonous, murderous attack on our way of life. They will be held accountable, tried and punished using all the laws our society holds true and dear.”
He stopped for effect, and raised his eyes to look out at us, to the viewing public.
“There are also two individuals still at large, and a worldwide manhunt has been engaged, using the full co-operation of agencies and governments around the globe. The fugitives’ names are Dr Kate Morgan and Adam Ben
edict. These are recent pictures of them, but their whereabouts are unknown.”
The image on the displays changed to a picture of me, taken straight from my hospital ID, and the photo I had snapped of Adam in his hospital bed back in Indian Springs.
“They are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous,” he continued. “If you see them, do not approach, but call 911 and wait for law enforcement to arrive. Thank you, everyone.”
With that, and over a cacophony of raised voices and questions, the president exited swiftly, accompanied by his secret service and other staffers. I stared at the empty lectern and my blown-up face superimposed behind it. It was as if I were underwater and everything was slow and warbled and muffled.
Cain paused the feed and gestured to the screen. “That is not the President of the United States anymore. The Vu-Hak have taken him over.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not possible. When Pete Navarro was controlled by the Vu-Hak, it was obvious … he wasn’t in control, he was violent … and I knew it wasn’t him.” I pointed at the screen. “That can’t be a Vu-Hak pretending to be the president.”
Adam put a hand on my shoulder. “Kate, the Vu-Hak have learned. Exponentially. It would not have taken them long to learn how to impersonate someone like the president so completely that even his wife thinks it is still him.”
“But how can you be sure?” I sputtered, denial still threatening to overwhelm my sensibilities until I remembered Eddie Wong and how he managed to escape detection until it was too late.
“There is more,” said Cain. “I have gained access to the CIA’s geosynchronous satellite cameras.” He gestured again at the screen and the White House lectern was replaced by an overhead image of the Antarctica site where our ship had been constructed. He flicked his hand open and the image pulled out, panning along the beach where we had disembarked from our small craft after leaving the USS Jimmy Carter.
The submarine was beached, its massive form lying on its side halfway up to the rocky wall. Waves lapped around its hull, pouring in and out of a twenty-yard long gash that had ripped open its side. The bodies of sailors could be seen floating in the icy water and the tide was crimson with their blood. Snow continued to fall and a pale bleak sun glittered on the ice floes and snow-covered plains.
“Oh my god,” I managed.
“This is a live feed,” Cain said. “The Vu-Hak infiltrated the submarine and detonated one of its torpedoes in its tube. Everyone died, Kate.”
“This happened after Eddie Wong shot me?”
He gave me an apologetic look. “I had no time to save the others. More Vu-Hak were there. I had to make a decision.”
“You led me to believe my friends were dead,” I said ominously.
Cain grimaced. “In my defense, I assumed they were. We now know they took them alive.”
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. “And they’ve just told us where they’re keeping them.”
“Yes, the Pentagon.”
I nodded, thinking furiously. “They want us to try and rescue them.”
“I think you are right,” said Adam. “There was no other reason to take them alive. Furthermore, the Pentagon is an office building, not a prison. There are many more secure facilities they could have used, if they really wanted to keep them from us.”
“They want us to show ourselves.”
“They need information from us to find the lost machines,” said Adam. “They can already destroy Earth, but they need the machines to get off-planet.”
Cain was looking pensive. “They also need to re-acquire the technology behind the Trinity portal. We cannot allow that.”
I blinked, perplexed. “Wait, I thought they had the wormhole data? You got it from the Lindstrom house, and also the Vu-Hak got it when Mike Holland went through the portal.”
Adam tapped his head. “The Trinity wormhole was destroyed, but I still have the data from Lindstrom’s calculations in here. I have been attempting to improve the formula in order to stabilize the wormhole.”
“That’s great, but don’t the Vu-Hak have the data as well?”
“The Vu-Hak have no data at all. They lost it when they were separated from the machines.”
Cain pointedly looked at me. “We need to keep it that way.”
I knew what he was hinting at. There was too much at stake to attempt a rescue. But I closed my eyes and saw Colleen Stillman’s face. I remembered everything that she’d done for me. The friendship she’d given me when I had no one.
What she’d sacrificed for me.
“I’m going to get them,” I said in a low voice.
“Kate, you will not succeed. They will be waiting.”
“Let them,” I spat out. “I’m in this fucking indestructible tin can. They can’t touch me. You put something in my head that prevented them taking over. That neural barrier. The Vu-Hak on the airplane was able to get in my head but I fought it off.”
Adam was looking blankly at me, then turned to Cain for an explanation.
“I was able to format a protective electrochemical field,” he said. “Like an enhanced blood–brain barrier.”
“There you go,” I said, defiantly.
Cain shook his head. “No, you see that only helped you when you were human. You have no organic tissue now. Your mind is purely a series of electrical pulses. Clone-imaged from your organic consciousness, yes, but purely artificial. The Vu-Hak could theoretically just take over your machine. Mine too.”
My face tightened, and a switch was flicked.
“Come with me,” I challenged. “Both of you. They can’t take us all. Not before we find our friends and get them out of there.”
Cain said nothing and looked at Adam, who was also silent.
“What?” I shouted. “Help me save them!”
Adam waved at the screen and closed the image down. “We cannot risk everything for three individuals. I must stay here to finish what I have started. The improved wormhole technology is almost within my grasp. And there is also the future of humanity to consider.”
My hands bunched into fists and a fire burned inside of me. Every word spoken by that blowhard president was like gasoline being thrown on it. I sensed Cain move closer, and felt his hand touch my shoulder lightly.
“Kate, you need to let go. Adam must complete his work or all will be in vain.”
I shook him off. “He doesn’t need me for that. You either, apparently. Won’t you help me?”
Adam turned to face me before Cain could reply. “Cain has … other priorities.”
“Really?”
“Cain needs to locate the other machines and ensure they are all deactivated and unusable. If the Vu-Hak secure even one working machine, then all could be lost.”
“And, Kate, you need to understand,” Cain said, “if there is any possibility that any of the machine AI are still intact, I need to find them and set them free. I am currently alone, unique, but I may not be the only one of my kind.”
“Can’t you just make more AI?” I blurted out.
The look Cain gave me could have frozen the sun.
I knew I wasn’t thinking logically. Furthermore, a rescue attempt was likely to be futile and could jeopardize everything. But …
I folded my arms and fixed both of them with a resolute gaze. “Right, well, you can drop me off at the Pentagon, because I’m not leaving them.”
Adam stared at me, concern etched into his features. “Kate, what if they have already been replaced by Vu-Hak?”
“I’m still going. I owe it to them to try.”
TWENTY-NINE
I entered the ship’s systems as before and experienced its journey from the moon to Earth. I sensed the first pinpricks of the atmosphere as we approached and the ship adjusted anti-static and anti-gravity drives to deflect the immense heat of the re-entry of a craft that weighed north of a million tons. There was nary a blip as it slipped through and then dampened its sonic boom before it even left the vicinity of
the ship’s hull. The ship adopted a needle-like shape a few miles long as it transitioned from space to atmosphere, producing an almost zero drag co-efficient.
We broke orbit and glided into the lower stratosphere with barely a ripple and leveled out at the western-most edge of the Mediterranean Sea. We arrowed though the mountains of the lower Alps to Lake Annecy and spun to a gravity-defying halt three thousand yards above sea level over the center of the lake. Grey storm clouds tumbled over the tips of the surrounding mountains, heavy with rain and sleet. A wind brushed the water’s surface, ripples ruffling its stillness and breaking up any reflection. The ship remained invisible, the stealth technology and the shapeshifting allowing it to chameleonize into the cloud cover and drift with the wind.
Noiseless, undetectable.
Or so I hoped.
Cain had picked up the faint radiation ‘footprint’ of a singularity at the bottom this French Alpine Lake. The singularity had to be still shielded of course; otherwise that particular body of water would not exist anymore. I had protested that he should take me first to the USA, but he gave a compelling argument that if we could detect the black hole from the dark side of the moon, the Vu-Hak may also be able to track it down and get there first. He also reiterated his previous argument, of course, which was that he was also looking to save the ‘lives’ – potential lives – of any functional AIs that may still inhabit any machines we might find.
My mind drifted out of the ship and back into my body, which was sitting inert in the flight deck. Cain was standing next to me, his eyes closed, also experiencing the ship’s journey and directing its route. I was now certain the ship was also one small step away from sentience itself, but for some reason Cain chose not to envisage it in the same way as his own artificial consciousness.