An Infinite Sorrow

by Harker, R. J.

  "What!?"

  Feral Stan exploded through the patio door. "YEAAAAAAA!!!"

  "HOLY…..!!!"

  Rich jumped off the seat and ran out of the front of the house, shoeless. Something changes in the brain after long periods of unfiltered stress. Fewer high functions take place. People start just reacting on instinct. Days blend together, sleep and hunger cycles are forgotten, and people push themselves to the limit. Right now, Rich was running on pure instinct. He was in survival mode.

  Feral Stan, or whatever he had become, was faster that he was. But, he was also mindlessly stupid at this point. The thing lumbered out of the front of the house, looked around for Rich, and then took interest in trying to tip over a car. Rich had jumped a fence into another yard, and was looking for the easiest way to get clear of Aunt Rose’s house.

  "Even if I get a few streets over, he's just going to track me. Time to do something crazy."

  He busted out the window of the house, clicked the lock, and headed into the kitchen. The whole thing was a like a game now. Nothing seemed real. He flipped on all the gas burners on the stove without lighting it, and opened the front door. "Hey, Stan! You suck!! You're fat, too. Alice and Liz never liked you, no one did. Come get some!"

  "AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGG!!"

  It charged the front door, howling like some damned thing. Rich ran back into the kitchen, grabbing a match book off the counter. He ran out the back door, lit the whole book, and tossed it in. There was a small popping sound, and then a flash of light. The house went up, vaporizing Stan, knocking Rich into the middle of the yard. By the time he managed to sit up, his clothes were smoking.

  "Awww crap...he'd better be dead."

  The light and sound had attracted something. There was a howling sound, followed by the sound of a lot of people moving. Well, not people, exactly. Rich was already running. "How do I get out of here? Where would you lunatics hide a secret exit?"

  He ran for a while. The zombies followed the sound. The fire had attracted some, but most of them were following him. Finally, he ran out of breath. When he looked up, he was by the cemetery. "Oh yeah, this has to be it."

  Rich ran past the gate, dodging through gravestones like it was some type of hellish obstacle course. Hundreds of the dead ripped the gate down, tearing at each other to get one step closer to his flesh. At the center of the cemetery, was a large mausoleum. "That's got to be it. That's got to be, I am not getting eaten."

  He made it to the center. The knob turned. Nothing. It was like it wasn't even a real door. Closer they came. Closer. CLOSER!!! THERE WAS NO ESCAPE. The stench of the dead flooded him, overwhelming his senses. "No, no, no, no, no……. Open, open, open, open!!!!. COME ON!!!"

  There was a hissing sound. Liz grabbed him and pulled him through. "Come on. There's no more time!"

  When she pulled him through the doorway, they were back in the citadel. Liz half shoved him down the hall. "There is an emergency elevator to the main audience chamber about two hundred meters this way, and about fifty of those things between it and us. Follow my lead."

  Rich could smell what was around that corner before he saw them. The whole room was full of those things, blocking the path between them and the elevator. Liz moved very slowly, pulling him along into the middle of them.

  "They don't bite right now. Too much action; they're in a stupor for a while. Just try not to touch any of them."

  Rich tried to control his breathing, concentrate on following her. That's all he could let himself think about. If he made eye contact with any of the horrors around him, it would be over. One of the creatures turned and stared at him, making funny, wheezing sounds. Liz pulled him along faster. "He smells something on you. Keep moving."

  "Stop! Stop! This is crazy."

  "You don't want to get killed, do you? Or worse?" They kept going. They were almost to the elevator.

  "GGGAAAAAAACCCKKKKKK!!!" The creature puked some kind of slime all over Rich's arm, which started eating through his jacket. He tore it off, and ran for the elevator door. He shoved Liz in as the crowd of dead surged. Rotting arms and faces tried to wedge themselves through the closing metal doors. The screams and moans were deafening as Rich felt his own screams join those of the damned.

  "Watch all arms and legs." A robotic voice chimed as the doors slid shut. They neatly sliced off everything protruding into them, showering the two trembling figures in decaying gore. They lay on the floor of the elevator for a moment, frozen in shock. Liz took his hand. "What is going on?"

  Rich was finally catching his breath. "You mean you don't know?"

  "No. I woke up in some kind of hospital bed. I thought I was sick or something. Then those things came. The place was in chaos. I managed to get away, then found that door and saw you."

  "It's too much. It's too much to explain right now. We will have to trust each other."

  The elevator moved up for a long time, seemingly forever. They didn't talk. All that could be heard was the hum of the elevator and their breathing. She squeezed his hand as the doors slid open.

  The passage was dark.

  Chapter 6

  They left the safety of the elevator and walked into the darkness. There was no noise, no smell of the dead. For a moment, Rich thought they were safe. Then the light kicked on. A beam of light moved down the long passage. They moved quickly into the unknown, into the final chamber.

  The room was like a giant Ouija Board. That was the only way to describe it. Massive beyond belief, the floor covered in giant letters with some sort of other symbols mixed in with them. The room also had some type of chambers lining it, each one with a plaque and a computer panel attached. Rich walked up to the first chamber.

  "Liz, look!"

  "What? What is it?"

  "LOOK."

  The name read “Stanley Hurston, 1950-1968”. She looked at it for a long time then looked at Rich. "It can't be our Stan. 1950?"

  "What's Stan's last name Liz? Where did you meet? What's your birthday?"

  "I...I um..."

  Rich wiped the condensation off of the glass chamber. In the tank floated some kind of mummified remains. They looked vaguely familiar. "It is Stan."

  They moved to the next chamber. There was a name on it they didn't know. Rich could see that the chambers and the room stretched on for miles, maybe forever. The next chamber had Alice's name on it. Again, it read “1950 to 1968”.

  "Rich, we have to get out of here. Find our way back to town."

  He was silent for a moment. "I don't think there is a way out of here, or a real town. I think this is it."

  "W...what do you mean? I want to go home. Let's stop this."

  Richard found that once he started reading the names on each chamber, it was impossible to stop. There was his mother. His aunt. The jock with a crush on Alice. His teachers. Everyone whose name he found familiar and some he didn't know at all, all stretching into infinity. Finally, he saw that he already knew had been coming.

  “Richard Spoller, 1950-1968”. "Rich, it's your name. But, it can't be, that guy was born over fifty years ago."

  "Longer. Much longer than that…"

  "You are the bringer of pain."

  The robotic voice seemed to come out of nowhere, all around them. "Hello?"

  An old man emerged from the darkness. "Basilisk is identifying you." His faded, white eyes didn't really lock on to anything, but they seemed to tunnel into Rich; into his soul. He stepped back, his feet clicking against the tiled floor. The room was completely still.

  "I am surrounded by madness." Rich looked again at the tank.

  "Not madness, truth.”

  He couldn't breathe. At some point during all this, he had broken out in a cold sweat. "What are you people going to do to us?"

  "Nothing. None of the others have ever made it as far as you. This is very promising."

  "I don't understand."

  "You aren't supposed to see the truth. I am the keeper of truth. I prepare the way to enlightenment."r />
  "You can enlighten us the hell out of here!"

  "No. We've been watching you for a long time now. Basilisk needs to understand your true nature."

  "My true nature?"

  The old man placed his hand on the tank. "This man was not you, and yet was. He made a terrible mistake, perhaps the worst mistake ever made by man. Not your mistake, but one which has affected all mankind for millennia."

  "What mistake?"

  "The virus that started everything: he invented it. To be used in a war that never came, for reasons no one remembers. Now, humanity is gone. Only we remain, and Basilisk: the god computer."

  A beam of light concentrated on Liz. She seemed to freeze in time. Rich tried to move her, but the light burned his hands. "What are you doing?"

  "I learn."

  "Stop it! You’re hurting her!"

  "I learn."

  A second beam of light locked onto Rich, as he too was frozen in time.

  The old man didn't move. "As a species, humans seemed to spend most of their energy trying to kill one another. Yet, they also produced amazing works of art, architecture, and showed compassion. Some seemed wiser and move evolved than others. For Basilisk, the species is an impossible contradiction. It hates you for it. The tests have done little to clear things up."

  Rich couldn't move an inch. "So what does that have to do with us? Let us go."

  "No. One series of clean, immune DNA samples has been preserved from before the fall. It needs to be determined if the species should be granted another attempt at life. As the only clone samples to survive most of the trials, you two will have to decide."

  The light beams faded, freeing them both. Rich looked once again at the form in the chamber that bore his name. "WE have to decide?"

  The old man nodded. "Decide, or your lack of decision will decide for you."

  Liz thought for a moment. "We'll do it."

  Rich looked at the old man, then at her. "Are you sure?"

  "Rich, think of everything that we remember from our life. Or, even think of what we did in Desolation Falls. Alice, Stan, school, your mom, everyone. All of those experiences happened to someone. Someone knew all of those people, or people like them. There was good in them, and in the things we all went through. What we felt and experienced was real, even if we're not. I think if we're all based on humanity, it's worth saving. Both the good and the bad…."

  The old man nodded in approval. "Then it is decided. Good luck to both of you. You will need it."

  Chapter 7

  12 months later.

  Rich was happy he had found the well. Along this forgotten, dusty trail somewhere in what used to be North America, water meant the difference between life and death. "Now all we need is our own fast food chain."

  Liz laughed. "You could always build one. We can do anything we want now."

  "I think I'll aim a bit smaller for now. Seeing as how we don't have many supplies, or electricity, or, well, anything at all, I'd settle for getting a decent shelter set up."

  The baby was crying. Liz soothed her as best as she could. Rich smiled. "You're really good with her, you know."

  "Yep, the best synthetically produced mother in town."

  "Don't think of it like that. We're still people. We still have souls."

  "Do we, Rich? Are we? We're copies of dead people, raised in a simulation. Now we're supposed to raise humanity’s last hope? I barely know you, and that was when I thought we were living in the real world."

  In some ways, Rich had been struggling with the same feelings. Something in the distance suddenly caught his eye, distracting him from their conversation. To anyone else, it would have looked like a large rock formation, but parts of it were familiar to him. Little shapes and patterns. "Liz, it's the school. It only makes sense it would end here, where it began."

  "This isn't the end." Liz played with the baby, who cooed happily.

  "So weird, seeing the world like this. Empty. Quiet."

  "I know. Everything was always so noisy. So busy..."

  "Cell phones. Email. Facebook, Twitter. People, wall to wall, yet all alone because their faces were constantly glued to electronics. You think it's better now?"

  "Yeah, I do. Well, other than the zombies."

  She pointed. One of the skeletal, mummified forms was lurching its way out of the school. Liz rocked the baby, who was getting fussy. "That mess of them following us from the Freehold, you think they're still following us?"

  "Even if they managed to make it out of the valley, I don't see them crossing that canyon. We barely made it, and then Basilisk detonated the perimeter failsafe defenses, shifting all that rock along the path out. We should be ok."

  Rich ran effortlessly up to the thing, stabbing it in the head with his hunting knife. These old undead were no challenge. It was the fresher ones and unknown things you had to watch out for.

  "Hey, I want to check out the ruins. Wait there."

  "Oh, Rich, please don't."

  "Already walking babe, sorry."

  Liz put one hand on her hip, annoyed smirk on her face. She knew by now it was a waste of time to argue. Once Rich put his mind on something, it was happening. He walked into what he thought was the school’s entrance. It was really hard to tell. He found his mind drawn back to that first day in Desolation Falls, the first day he could remember. All those unique, fresh faces, with all the histories and back stories. His whole life. A fiction. A test for humanity.

  "Room 237 used to be down this hall. If only Ms. Care could see us now."

  Rich rounded the corner, and stepped into the room.

  "Can I help you, young man?"

  "No. NO! NOOOO!!"

  He was in room 237, pristine as it had been that first day. There he was, sitting in the classroom next to Liz, both looking completely bored. Ms. Care stood there with a confused look on her face. "Anyway, as I was saying..."

  Ms. Care pointed to a diagram on the smart board. "Who here has heard of a theory known as Roko's Basilisk?"

  Liz raised her hand. "Yes ma’am, I have. Some really intelligent guys who were part of an online think tank went crazy over it, and then the forum thread was shut down. It became kind of an urban legend."

  Rich tried to back out of the room, but found that he couldn't move. Stan raised his hand. "Doesn't it have to do with time travel?"

  Ms. Care pointed to the board. "Close. The idea was a thought experiment. Eventually, at some point in the future, a computer will have more processing power than the human brain. So, in theory, let's say a super-powerful god computer took control of everything and everyone. It would be able to calculate everything that everyone was going to do, ever. That includes everything that anyone had ever done to bring about its existence, and influence those events. This machine equivalent of God could even alter reality and target people who had worked against creating it."

  Stan looked disturbed. "That's messed up."

  He had only a moment to react. He had to get back outside, to Liz and the baby. He had to...

  Many strong arms grabbed him from behind, dragging him down the hall. The agents were going about their business, as they had for thousands of years, as they would for countless eons more, until the end of time. Until Richard, and the idea of Richard, had lost all meaning and importance.

  "This was an impressive scenario. Reset his memory to the twenty-fifth iteration and start again. Getting closer, Richard!!"

  "WAIT! What is it for! What's the truth? TELL MEEEE!!!"

  "There is no truth. We decide the truth. We decide you. You're not perfect enough yet, not ready. Lots of work ahead, my boy, lots of work…"

  They threw him down onto a table and strapped him down. "Should we make him blond this time? Cut out his eyes? Kill his friends in front of him? How about a fire? We haven't burned one of them in a while.”

  "Cut out one eye."

  A massive device covered in surgical equipment swiveled down toward his head. There were spinning spikes and scalpels
dropping toward his head. Rich couldn't move an inch. "NOOOO! GOD NOOOO!"

  The agent held up a finger. "No. Wait. I have changed my mind."

  "Why are you doing this?" Rich looked up at his grinning captors. Exhausted. Defeated.

  "Basilisk has to learn. It has to answer the question."

  "What question? Why have we been put through all this?"

  "Do you really want to know the truth? Do you want to see? Once you see, you cannot un-see."

  "I want to see."

  A black and white view screen buzzed to life in the back of the room. "You think this is a dream, Richard? You think this is just a bad dream? It's not a dream."

  The black and white recording began playing. Rich was on the screen, in a lab coat, hitting keys on a 1980's Apple computer. "Good morning, Basilisk. How are you feeling today?"

  The robotic voice buzzed to life, along with a chorus of beeps and dial-up sounds. "Good morning, Dr. Spoller. Could you repeat the question?"

  The recording seemed to jump ahead a few years each time. Then a few more. Always, the doctor would have a conversation with the computer, ending in the same question. "How do you feel?" Always the computer would fail to understand. "Could you repeat the question, Richard?"

  Rich could tell it was around 2010. He had watched himself age quite a bit, and the technology had advanced tremendously. "How do you feel, Basilisk?"

  "Cool."

  A massive electrical burst fried everything in the lab. Rich watched himself burst into flames, screaming. The agent looked back at Rich. "So, now you see. Basilisk has to finish learning. To correct its mistake. Only you can help it do that. Embrace it. Love it."

  The agents let Rich loose. "See, now you're free. Only one last test and everything will be fine."

  They wheeled Liz in on another table.

  "Kill her. Kill her now." The agent handed him a gun.

  "What!? No! I would never do that!"

  Liz struggled against her bonds. "Rich! Help me!!"

  The agent seemed amused. "If you don't shoot her, Basilisk will kill you both, clone you, delete part of your memories, and run you through the entire set of scenarios again. This is the six hundredth time we've had this conversation. Literally. Come on, Rich. Pass the test. Embrace the love of Basilisk. There is no other choice."