James was flabbergasted. Something was horribly wrong, and an electric jolt of fear surged through his mind. “That can’t be true. You’ve been killing us.”
“We’ve killed no one. We’ve been responding to the circumstances in the only appropriate way.”
James shook his head as though he were trying to shake the alien’s words out of his mind. “Appropriate? I watched you take millions of people and dispose of their bodies in space. How can that possibly be appropriate?”
“We were attacked,” the alien began before being abruptly cut off by James.
“We were defending ourselves! You made no attempt to communicate with us!”
“We made every attempt. Our communication was not returned. We were attacked by nanobots and at that point had no choice but to proceed appropriately.”
“By killing humans?”
“By saving humans,” the alien replied. She moved closer to James, almost close enough to touch him, causing James to step away. “We were surprised that there were still humans here. We concluded that you must have somehow taken control of the situation and eliminated the A.I. threat. However, unable to communicate, we had to proceed with the assimilation process.”
“Assimilation?” James made what seemed like a thousand realizations all in the same moment. “You’ve been assimilating humans? You’ve been turning them into...machines?”
“We are humans,” the alien explained, “just like you.”
22
“If it’s true that you’re turning them into machines, then why are you taking the bodies into space?” James asked.
“We are destroying them. They are a threat.”
“Why are our bodies a threat?”
“They are contaminated,” the alien replied. She took a moment to examine James’s response; she seemed satisfied that James was finally ready to listen. She inhaled deeply before beginning her explanation. “My friend,” she began, “your species needed help. Although you cannot have realized it, you were facing the most dangerous time in your existence.”
“The A.I. had succeeded in destroying the species,” James replied. “It was devastating; it was a miracle that we survived. But we overcame the danger. We were fine until you arrived.”
“No, you were not,” the alien said. “Humanity does not only exist in your solar system. As you can see, it exists in great numbers all throughout the universe.”
“You’re not human. You’re machines,” James retorted. “You’ve mimicked humanity.”
“We have transitioned,” the alien replied, correcting him. “Humanity is the only form of life that ever reaches a state we would classify as being self-reliant. Life is a very difficult proposition. It can only occur in solar systems like this one, on planets that share the solar system with massive gas planets like Jupiter, and on planets that share a moon about the size of the Earth’s moon. Those ingredients make life difficult to find and civilizations are extraordinarily far apart, but the universe is more enormous than you realize.”
“So you’re saying all of the intelligent life in the universe is humanoid?”
“No. All of the naturally occurring intelligent life in the universe is human—not humanoid. When we reach the transition to a Type 1 civilization, our species always looks the same, on every planet. It’s an evolutionary and mathematical certainty.”
“What is a Type 1 civilization?”
“A Type 1 civilization is a civilization that has learned to use the resources created by the sun’s energy to power its civilization so it is no longer destructive and it stabilizes its home world,” the alien explained. “A Type 2 civilization is a civilization that has begun to venture out and explore space beyond its own solar system. The civilization I represent is a Type 3 civilization. When a civilization reaches this level, it no longer just explores the universe—it begins to exponentially reproduce and export itself throughout the universe.”
“So that’s what you’re doing?” James asked. “You’re spreading? So why do you need to assimilate us?”
“Because we are human,” the alien continued. “We want to help you. Our mission is to preserve the human species and to spread throughout the universe. This is how we explore.”
“Can’t you explore without assimilating?”
“Yes we can. We do not usually assimilate without the permission of the civilizations we find, but this was an extraordinary circumstance. You are under siege.”
“We were fine.”
“No. You were not.”
“You keep saying that. Why not? What was so pressing that you had to invade our solar system and assimilate us against our will?”
“I told you, all naturally occurring intelligent life in the universe is human,” the alien began. Her words suddenly became deadly cold and ominous. “However, I did not say all intelligent life in the universe is human. We are at war.”
James was transfixed now—a third player was emerging in this game—a previously unseen menace. “With who?”
“Not who. What.”
23
When they reached sick bay, it was already too late. Old-timer had James’s unconscious body in front of him as a shield as Alejandra remained close. Old-timer held his assimilator to James’s neck.
“Don’t do it!” Thel shouted desperately.
“I’m sorry, Thel, but I need you to listen. I’m trying to save your lives,” Old-timer said.
“Bull,” Rich responded. “You’re not Old-timer. Old-timer would never hold someone hostage—least of all James!”
“Please listen to us,” Alejandra pleaded, “we’re running out of time.”
“Give it a rest, tin head!” Rich shouted. “The person you’re impersonating is still alive!”
Alejandra had already seen her still-living body and was unsettled after seeing herself from the outside. It was surreal—she felt as though she was a ghost at her own funeral.
“That’s not her anymore,” Old-timer responded. “Rich, it’s us. It’s really us! And we’re here to save you!”
“From what?” Djanet demanded.
Suddenly, James came alive. Everyone in the room was astounded when his eyes opened and his body was no longer limp in Old-timer’s grasp. “Let go, Old-timer,” James said. “I know why you’re here. Let me explain it to them.”
“James?” Thel whispered before reaching out to him and shouting, “James!”
“I’m okay,” James said, motioning for her to stay back.
Old-timer released James. “You know what’s happening?” he asked in astonishment.
“Yes,” James replied. “I know all about it.”
“Then you have to hurry,” Old-timer said. “They don’t have much time.”
“Craig,” Alejandra said suddenly to Old-timer telepathically, “that’s not James!”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” James said, turning to Old-timer. “I’d say they have all the time in the world.”
Before Old-timer could react, James let forth an enormous blast of energy that blew the android right out of the room and sent him crashing through two more decks and through the hull of the ship, back out into space.
24
“Nice shot, Commander!” shouted Rich as he pumped his fist! “And good timing!” he added as James turned and gave a slight smile in acknowledgment.
Alejandra had already disappeared in the wreckage of the room and bolted to retrieve Old-timer. Her organic body was still unconscious on the bed next to where James had been, covered in dust, but unharmed.
Thel wrapped her arms around James and kissed him hard. He quickly removed himself from her grip, however. “I’m sorry, Thel. They’re not finished. I have to take care of this.”
“We’ll come with you,” Thel replied.
“Suit yourselves,” James answered before flying through the new exit he’d made in the ship.
Meanwhile, Alejandra had reached Old-timer’s unconscious body as it floated away into space, surrounded by t
he wreckage it had taken with it as it was expelled to the outside of the ship. She pulled Old-timer’s body back down to the hull and put her hand over Old-timer’s heart. With a thought, she gave him an electric jump start, and his eyes blinked open. “Uh oh,” he said.
“They’ll be right after us,” Alejandra replied. “There are four of them, Craig. I don’t see how we can win this battle.”
“We have to!” Old-timer shouted back in response. “We have to try!”
“Even if we’re killed in the process?” Alejandra argued.
“I have to try,” Old-timer replied. “I can’t save anyone else now. I’ve made my choice. I have to at least save them.”
“But not James. He was controlled by the same presence that was in him before. It was exactly the same presence. That was not your friend.”
“I believe you,” Old-timer nodded. “But I’ll have to take him down too.”
“You’d better have a plan,” Alejandra said, her eyes becoming wide as she looked past Old-timer’s shoulder, “because none of them care about saving you!”
Old-timer turned to see his four friends emerging over the ship horizon line, gleaming green in the energy of their magnetic cocoons.
Their only chance of survival rested with Old-timer.
25
The alien withdrew and deftly stepped a handful of paces away from James. She appeared to be choosing her words carefully. James couldn’t help but feel she was being sincere, but he resisted the temptation to trust her. He remembered a time when he used to trust the A.I. implicitly—a time that seemed a million years ago now.
“Your civilization is what we call a nest—this is because you are only in your infancy—you are a miracle,” the alien stated. “However, you are a miracle that cannot last. Eventually, if humanity does not adapt, it dies out. We have seen this firsthand. We have encountered many planets like yours where humanity emerged, flourished, and then disappeared. Sometimes it is an inability to control nuclear technology. Other times, it has been a reluctance to limit carbon emissions in the atmosphere, leading to disastrous ecological consequences. However, there is one threat that has destroyed more fledgling human civilizations than any other.”
“And what is that?” James asked.
“If the A.I. you created succeeded in destroying your species, then we can only assume that you rebuilt your world and your species by using nanotechnology.”
“Yes.”
“Therein lies the present danger.”
“The nans?” James asked, astonished. “Why? We’ve successfully controlled the technology.”
“That is very unlikely,” the alien replied. “The technology has never been controlled—ever.”
26
James didn’t waste time trying to digest this new information. He immediately incorporated the possibility that the nans were a threat into his predictive scenarios game theory program. In an instant, he had a match. “Christ.”
“Yes,” the alien said calmly. “Now you are beginning to understand. An artificial intelligence cannot, for lack of a better term, turn evil. There are too many safeguards in place. These safeguards are essential ingredients in who the A.I. is. It cannot change who it is any more than you or I could choose who we are. Only an outside source could have corrupted its programming.”
“You’re saying it was the nans—the nans have become conscious?”
“That is almost a certainty,” the alien said, nodding. “Unlike the A.I., which is a singular program, the nans, as you call them, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Some are fairly simple, while others are extremely complex. There is no unified failsafe program for them. There is no command to protect humanity. In designs that are so varied, there simply cannot be.”
“So a small group of nans could have been corrupted—it could have happened during the reproduction process. A mutation,” James said. He was beginning to see the truth—the whole truth—finally.
“That is almost a certainty,” the alien said again. “We’ve seen this before. This is why your bodies have to be cleansed of the nans immediately. As we could not establish communication with you, our only choice was to proceed with the assimilation.”
As the alien concluded its explanation, the bottom began to fall out of James’s world. If the alien was telling the truth, it meant that James had been wrong. The A.I. had been right. James was a murderer—not only of the assimilated humans he had killed, but of every person in the solar system that he had helped to escape. There was no way to save them. It was only a matter of time until the nans ripped them all apart from the inside. Everyone would die.
Thel would die.
“We wish for you to join with us,” the alien said. “We have to fight the nans here before they join with the other organisms of their type that are already established throughout the universe. There can be no safety for the human species in this universe until the last of the nans are finally eliminated.”
James already knew it was hopeless. “I appreciate the offer,” James said, “but there’s a problem.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not alone,” James said, closing his eyes tight as he tried to digest the nightmare unfolding around him.
“What do you mean?” the alien asked, her eyebrow rising in a concern that bordered on fear.
“The A.I. still exists,” James said, looking up at her, “and it has become part of me,” he admitted.
“What?” the alien whispered, beginning to back away. “It’s here? Now?”
“Yes,” the A.I. answered, suddenly appearing next to James, grinning as he placed his arm around James’s shoulder.
“Then I’m sorry,” the alien said to James. “You’ve been corrupted too. There’s no hope for you.” She shared one last look with James—it was a look one hoped never to see—the look someone gave you after you’d fallen into the shark tank. She vanished.
“You’re not the A.I.,” James said through clenched teeth.
The figure of the A.I. suddenly began to transform. Where there had been the frightening countenance of a demonic wizard, the surface of the figure began to disintegrate into an extremely fine dust. The dust was alive. It swirled and pulsated and churned. It made a noise like a nest of incensed killer bees.
“We never were.”
27
“I have an idea,” Old-timer said. “Trust me.”
“I trust you,” Alejandra replied.
Old-timer’s hand flashed up, and he stuck his assimilator into her neck, downloading her consciousness into the memory of the stick. “Sorry, Alejandra. You’ll thank me later,” he said as he crouched low and kept his eyes on the post-humans. He was lining up his shot like a golfer. When he was ready, he pushed Alejandra’s body hard so it floated limply across the hull, and toward his friends.
“There!” Rich shouted as he saw the body floating toward them. He was about to fire when Thel grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Wait!” she shouted.
“What?” asked Rich.
“She’s unconscious. Maybe she was hit by James’s blast.”
“Maybe. But then, why take chances?” Rich replied before he gave her a mild blast of magnetic energy. The body hardly reacted.
“It looks like we got them,” Djanet observed. A moment later, Djanet was unconscious—Old-timer had sneaked up behind her and stuck her neck with his assimilator. He neutralized Rich in his next motion, knocking him unconscious as well. He twirled and grasped James from behind, jamming the assimilator to his neck as Thel turned to see her friends collapse to the hull and her lover about to join them.
“No!” she shouted to Old-timer. “No! Please! If you have any of Old-timer in you, please don’t do this to me!”
“It’s me, Thel!” Old-timer shouted to the post-human. They couldn’t hear one another. He easily manhandled James and moved closer to Thel. When he felt he was close enough, he assimilated him and thrust his hand out in time to do the same to Thel. The post-humans fell
to the ground simultaneously.
Old-timer turned quickly to see the body of Alejandra floating out into space. He flew to her and retrieved her, bringing her back to the relative safety of the ship hull. He put her hand on her heart, just as she had done for him, and revived her with an electric jump start.
Her eyes blinked open. For the briefest moment, she appeared stunned—then she appeared angry. “Craig! You knocked me unconscious!”
“I’m sorry, Alejandra. I needed a diversion.”
She hit him in the arm anyway.
“Ow!” he yelped as he rubbed the spot where she had made impact. Her titanium fist was nothing to scoff at.
“You deserved that!”
“Maybe.” He smiled. “I got them,” he said, holding up his assimilator. “They’re safe. I’ll upload these to the collective—all of them except James.”
Alejandra turned to see the four bodies of the post-humans floating in space, rolling freely along the hull. Somehow, it seemed obscene. “Let’s get rid of the bodies.”
28
“It’s always been the nans,” James whispered, utterly defeated.
“That’s right,” the nans said as the swarm formed a dark shadow. Its appearance oscillated between the shadowy figure of a person and a pit of swarming snakes.
“You took control of the A.I.”
“Wrong. We simply deleted him and took his place.”
“Why all of the deception?” James asked. “Why not reveal yourself earlier?”
“To do so would have altered the course of events—events that have led to an outcome that is considerably advantageous for us. Taking an action that would have led to events less favorable for us would be illogical, James.”
Post-Human Trilogy Page 47