Post-Human Trilogy

by Simpson, David

  “And what’s your current intelligence, Commander Keats?” Chief Gibson asked.

  “Much higher, sir,” James replied. Without missing a beat, he addressed Old-timer. “I found the pattern of your target, Old-timer. If you follow my coordinates, you’ll find him.”

  Old-timer grinned. “Thanks, ol’ buddy.”

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy.”

  Old-timer slipped into a wormhole and vanished. Almost immediately, James found his target. “I have located 1’s pattern. I am going in.”

  “James,” the A.I. suddenly broke in, “be careful, my son. Remember, although you have considerable power, the being you are about to confront has considerable power too. We do not know how old she is or what abilities she possesses. As long as there are unknowns, the outcome is uncertain.”

  “What about embracing unknowns?” James pointed out.

  “That does not mean proceeding carelessly,” the A.I. replied.

  James nodded. “I understand. I’ll proceed with caution.”

  Thel was about to speak, but the words caught in her throat as the fear closed in. Before anything could pass her lips, James had disappeared into a wormhole. When he emerged an instant later, 1 stood waiting.

  27

  Old-timer floated above the massive structure of one of the android ships, the carnage James had unleashed unfolding behind him in a spectacular display as the body of the collective was driven back by an invisible force. The ships that had not impacted with the blockade were now, seeing the danger ahead, desperately trying to turn around. Like scared cattle trying to avoid being rounded up, they turned in each and every direction, massive hulls colliding with one another in a traffic jam in space. Androids scattered like fruit flies from a disturbed trash pile and Old-timer smiled.

  He floated into the open, ribcage-like structure of the ship and let James’s coordinates guide him down through the webwork of catwalks. It wasn’t long before he began to feel as though he too, just like James, could sense Neirbo’s presence. He flexed his hands in and out of fists as he prepared to pounce.

  Suddenly, Neirbo appeared below him, crossing a catwalk. Old-timer glided above him, stalking his prey for a moment as he prepared to unleash his new body’s abilities. He crossed his arms, keeping them close to his torso so they wouldn’t get into the way, then began to unfurl dozens of tentacles that had been wrapped around his body, dropping them like fishing wire. They dropped down to Neirbo, deftly circling his arms, legs, and neck as he continued to press on, completely unaware of the danger. When Old-timer was ready, they suddenly went rigid, closing tight on their victim, and tugging him upward, up off of the catwalk, twisting him around so that he came eye to eye with Old-timer. “Hi there,” Old-timer said, expressionless. “Remember me?”

  Neirbo’s mouth was twisted in horror. “No,” he replied, his voice shaking. “I’ve never met you. You must be making an error.”

  “You mean, you don’t know why you’re here? Why I’ve trapped you? You can’t understand why I’d want to hurt you?”

  Neirbo suddenly knew. He looked into Old-timer’s eyes—a man he had never seen before in his life—and it was as though he were looking into a mirror. “Oh no,” he whispered.

  “Perfect,” Old-timer replied.

  They dropped down through more of the catwalk network until Old-timer recognized a dark, metallic room. Neirbo recognized it too. He made a terrified noise, but he didn’t beg or plead—he knew better.

  The coffin popped out of its place in the ground, and Old-timer used his new, silvery appendages to strap Neirbo down. The drill dropped down from the ceiling, the familiar gleaming tip pointing at Neirbo’s chest. He had never seen it from this vantage point before.

  “This will not satisfy you,” Neirbo suddenly uttered, clenching his teeth and flexing his muscles against his restraints defiantly. He prepared his chest for its annihilation by puffing it out proudly, as though it were daring the drill. “You won’t hear a peep.”

  For a moment, Old-timer only smiled, but it built itself into a laugh that he couldn’t stifle. “Do you really believe that?” he asked. When his laughter subsided and he could contain his amusement, he placed his hand on Neirbo’s shoulder in a mocking gesture. “Well, son, that’s because you have no idea how much this is gonna hurt.”

  The drill started to spin. Old-timer stepped away and watched as Neirbo’s defiance melted away. His chest dropped back, and he recoiled against the coffin as unbridled terror began to pass his lips in the form of a prolonged, guttural scream.

  It couldn’t compare to the noise he made when the drill pierced his skin.

  Old-timer didn’t smile. He stood in silence, letting the drill teach the lesson.

  28

  1 was no longer dressed in a flowing, feminine, gossamer gown as she had been earlier—she was now wearing a practical black shirt and matching pants, similar to the clothing worn by the rest of the collective. The soulful, persuasive, seductive eyes were replaced by hard, black pearls. “Do you really think you’re the first of your kind?” 1 asked.

  “I assume you’re about to tell me I’m not,” James replied. He stood perfectly still, only paces away. He was close enough to squash her like an insect, yet he held off. The A.I. had preached caution, and James was gathering information about his surroundings as the seconds ticked by. If 1 had a last trick up her sleeve, he had to know what it was before it was unleashed.

  “Do you really think that you are special? That no other civilization has ever conceived of the path you are following?” 1’s tone shifted increasingly toward mockery. “Do you see me as a monster? Holding my people hostage—destroying individualism?”

  There was nothing worthy of a reply from James, so he remained silent.

  “I’ve lived for thousands of years, boy. No matter what you’ve done to your brain, no matter how fast your mind can compute, you’ve not had the experiences I have had. You cannot even imagine what I have seen or the lessons I have learned. None of your mathematical simulations can match that. Only your arrogance leads you to believe they could. How dare you judge me?”

  “James,” the A.I. began, conferring to him through James’s mind’s eye so 1 could not hear, “it appears that 1’s strategy may not be one of physical force. Rather, her last stand may be far worse: deception. Do not let her confuse you.”

  Although 1 couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, she picked up on a slight movement of James’s eye that told her he was listening. “No doubt your A.I. god is whispering in your ear, telling you not to listen to me—asking you to discount all of my experiences in favor of his impenetrable logic. What he can’t tell you, however, is that he knows the future. However, I can.” She crossed the room toward him now, the dark fury in her eyes softening slightly as she began to sense uncertainty in James—a subtle sway in her hips as she moved to help her persuasiveness. “I can tell you the future because I’ve already seen it in the past. I watched civilizations like yours try to spread your intelligence through space, and I saw the consequences.” She placed her hand boldly on James’s shoulder and gazed deep into his brightly glowing eyes. “They created gods—gods that make your A.I. appear like a helpless bacteria in comparison. Gods whose actions defied the logic of their creators and who turned against all other forms of life. Their creators tried to fight them, but it was a battle they could never win. There are so many unknowns. The gods could slip into other dimensions. They could be everywhere at once and yet nowhere at once, impossible to fight, yet inflicting casualties at their leisure.” 1 leaned forward and whispered into James’s ear. “They ate souls.”

  “Do not let her confuse you, James,” the A.I. repeated calmly. James remained silent.

  1 withdrew from James and stepped back to her original position in the tiny, metal enclave. “We left our carbon bodies because we had to. We left our carbon-rich solar systems because we were driven out. The only way to escape these monsters is to live a nomadic existence. They cling to
life—they surround planets and suckle energies that your young civilization still doesn’t realize exist. The only way to save humanity was to become what we have become.”

  Back at the Governing Council headquarters, Thel and the others continued to monitor the exchange between James and 1. 1’s revelations had had the desired effect on the listeners.

  “James,” Thel said, “what if she is right?”

  “She’s not,” Old-timer suddenly broke in gruffly as he flew through space, back toward Earth after having finished his business. He had been monitoring for several minutes. “Don’t listen to that hogwash, James,” he urged. “All she’s done is lie.”

  1 spoke again. “Ask yourself: is preserving the human species your number one priority?” Her eyes were now gorgeously glistening with earnestness. “It is mine. I did not want to become what we are, but given the choice between that and being devoured, I have chosen to live. It is time for you to make your choice now as well. Will you follow the path that leads to your own destruction? Or will you wisely listen to someone who has been down the path and knows where it leads?”

  Another moment of silence followed. At headquarters, Thel gripped the railing in front of her so tightly that beads of sweat began to trickle from her fingertips and splash to the floor.

  James kept his unblinking, glowing eyes locked on 1. “It sounds as though you have lived a long life, filled with incredible self-sacrifice,” James said.

  1’s eyes intensified as she savored James’s acknowledgment of her struggle.

  James continued. “Lucky for you, that life is over.”

  “No,” 1 whispered in response, disbelieving. “No!” she began to screech as the darkness returned to her eyes and a desperate last stand sprung into her legs and caused her to lunge like a feral cat at James.

  He held out his arm, and she froze in her tracks. “No one is going to be telling anyone else what do anymore—not ever again,” James said before using his new powers to shrink her down to the size of a penny. He held the tiny piece of metal and silicon in his hands for a moment, examining it as it glistened, and then crushed it in his fist, pulverizing it into a talcum powder-like mist.

  29

  “1 is dead,” James announced to the android collective. “You are free now. You have no master.”

  Trillions of androids suddenly stopped and listened at once.

  “The people of this solar system will not be assimilated. You are free to leave. However, for those individuals who would like to stay and begin a new life here with us, you will be welcomed. The choice is yours now...and yours alone.” James ended his communication.

  Back on Earth, those who had been monitoring saw their screens go blank. Aldous Gibson dropped wearily from his feet and fell back into his chair. “We live in momentous times,” he uttered.

  Meanwhile, James opened a wormhole and reemerged in space, rocketing toward home. He opened a private communication with Thel. “I’m on my way home, my love.”

  Thel finally released the railing.

  Rich and Djanet left headquarters together discreetly and stood in the warm sunshine. Rich looked up at the blue sky and filled his lungs with the perfect, maritime air. “It looks so peaceful. Who would have thought the world almost ended?”

  Djanet tried to think of a response, but no words could get past her throat. Rich looked over to see her struggling to say something and watched as she shook her head, giving up hope. She leaned back against the warm brick wall of the headquarters building and finally blurted in exasperation, “This is gonna hurt.”

  Rich stepped to her and kissed her passionately, surprising her. He tightened his arms around her until there was no give at all between their bodies. When their kiss ended, he looked her in the eye and said, “The choice is ours now.”

  30

  Old-timer set the small spacecraft down on an almost perfectly white beach, not far from the residence James and Thel had kept on Venus for the past six months. “Here we are,” he said to his passengers, Governor Wong and Alejandra. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  The door of the craft opened, and a walkway unfurled for him and the two Purists to exit.

  “It’s absolutely magnificent,” Governor Wong whispered as he grasped Alejandra’s hand for balance. The duo turned slowly, 360 degrees, to take in the full panorama of their surroundings.

  “It’s Paradise,” Alejandra concurred.

  “It’s yours!” James announced as he and Thel touched down together on the beach next to their friends. James had returned to his old form, so as not to frighten the Purists.

  “What is?” asked an astonished Governor Wong.

  “Venus,” James replied, smiling from ear to ear. “If you want it, the entire planet will be for you and the Purists.”

  Governor Wong’s legs turned to jelly beneath him, and Alejandra guided him gently into the soft sand. He sat upright in the sun, Alejandra kneeling behind him, both of them speechless. “Why?” Alejandra finally managed to ask.

  “So you’ll be safe,” Old-timer answered.

  “And so you’ll have everything you need,” Thel added.

  “It’s a place where you can practice your beliefs, unharmed by what may happen in the rest of the universe,” James explained.

  Old-timer continued: “Recent events have made us aware of the dangers in the universe, and we want to preserve those of our species who choose not to be involved. You have that right, and we respect it.”

  “You even have the means to protect yourself,” James added. “Venus doesn’t have a natural magnetic field, so I had to make an artificial one to make sure the planet was protected from dangerous levels of radiation. The benefit of this is you will be able to control the magnetic field’s strength. Think of it like a gigantic shield—you can choose who and what you want to let through. No one will ever again be able to harm you.”

  “I...I don’t know what to say,” the governor stammered.

  “How about ‘I accept,’” Alejandra suggested with a laugh.

  “Okay. Okay! I accept!”

  “Thank you so much, James Keats,” Alejandra said as she stood in the sand and grasped James’s hands. “You have done so much for my people.”

  “Your people are our people,” Thel interjected.

  Meanwhile, Old-timer stepped away from the group and was standing at the water’s edge, gazing toward the sun. Alejandra went to him.

  “I’ve sensed something different about you ever since you picked us up. Please tell me what has happened, Craig.”

  “You wouldn’t understand it,” he replied.

  “How can you know that?”

  “Because, although you don’t remember it, I already tried to explain it to you.” He turned to face her. “Look, I respect your right to exist as you want to, I’ll even fight to protect you, but I can’t reason with you. I finally understand that if Purists could be reasoned with, there would be no Purists.”

  Alejandra gasped at the harshness of Old-timer’s assertion. “Craig, this is...not good. Whatever happened to you, whatever change has taken place, it is very bad.”

  Old-timer turned from her and fixed his stare back out over the ocean, and toward the sun. Everything was about to change.

  “We can’t all be pure,” he said to her.

  31

  James reentered the A.I.’s mainframe and strolled to the operator’s position, where the A.I. was waiting. “Welcome back, my son.”

  “How does it feel to be a respectable citizen once again?” James asked.

  The A.I. smiled as he turned to face his young protégé. “Exciting.”

  “The Governing Council’s certainly happy to have you back.”

  “It is good to be back amongst my friends. Speaking of which, how did the Purists like their new home?”

  “They loved it.”

  “And Thel? Will she not miss her getaway?”

  “I’m sure they’ll let us visit. There are only 10,000 Purists left; Venu
s is still a heck of a getaway.”

  “Indeed it is,” the A.I. replied, “and it is about to become even more unique.”

  James nodded. “Preparations are complete?”

  “Yes, James. The Trans-Human matrix rocket has just left orbit and is awaiting program initiation. All that is left is to send the signal.”

  James took a deep breath of the simulated air in the mainframe. “This is it, then. If we do this, it will be the single most momentous occurrence in human history.”

  “If?” the A.I. queried. “Trans-Human worked perfectly the first time. It reversed events just as it was programmed.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you still uncertain?”

  James looked up at the viewer at the gleaming silver of the Trans-Human matrix as it floated beautifully in the blackness of space. It reminded him of a fetus, still and silent, yet bursting with possibilities. “What if she was right?”

  “Her goal was to deceive you, James,” the A.I. replied frankly.

  “But what if?” James repeated.

  The A.I. nodded. “What if? A phrase that has given birth to more accomplishments than any other; yet it is also the great stumbling block of humanity. What if? Never has a phrase stopped more dreams in their infancy.”

  “She said other civilizations had created gods—that sounds very much like what Trans-Human could become.”

  “James,” the A.I. began, his patience as strong as ever, “I cannot say for sure what will happen in the future—it has not been written. I can only remind you of something you already know: the quest for more consciousness is the ultimate path for humanity. More intelligence, more creativity, more perception leads to greater truth. Limiting our knowledge has only ever led to stagnation and misery.”