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Ravagers [03.00] Deviate

Page 18

by Alex Albrinck


  He’d processed her words and matched them against her earlier actions. His brain performed quadrillions of calculations, learning, allowing him to articulate in the current human language of choice what he’d observed. “It’s a distraction of sorts, to prevent a mental and emotional shutdown?”

  She nodded. “That’s a pretty good summary. You learn quickly.”

  She’d offered him a compliment. He bowed his head in acknowledgment.

  “So.” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s talk specifics. I know the general plan. How do we defeat the bad guys, exactly? When I get to this server controlling the code driving the Ravagers… what do I do?”

  Micah nodded as he reached into one of the many pockets lining his clothing. She didn’t need to know that most of those pockets covered compartments inside his metal body. He slid the compartment open and found the pair of rectangular devices, removing one and holding it out to her. “You’ll need this.”

  She accepted it and looked it over, running her fingers over the smooth metallic surface. “What is this?”

  “It holds the new code. There are ports on every Phoenix server, including that one. You plug that in, and it will take care of the rest.”

  “Find the server, plug this in, the server sends out a code update to all of the Ravagers and turns them into nice robots, and tells them that your server, not the one at Headquarters, will provide all future updates.”

  “Precisely. We end the current threat and prevent future threats.”

  She frowned and chewed her lower lip, a behavioral quirk he recognized. She was thinking. “Why not use the opportunity to issue a self-destruct code? Like you did with the Bunker?”

  A fine question indeed. “I had honestly not considered it because I don’t think the machines can be destroyed.”

  “What do you think the Phoenix planned to do with them once they finished destroying the world, then? Given the number already out there, you can’t just leave them all lying around.”

  He nodded. “Very true. They’re tools, Sheila. We’ll make good use of all of them.” He snapped his fingers. It had taken him ninety-six years to learn that movement; the precise level of finger pressure proved quite the challenge. “That’s a perfect segue to our next discussion. Follow me.” He turned and motioned. “There’s something else you need to experience.”

  “Experience? What does that mean? Are we going to watch another memory?”

  He didn’t answer, leading her back to the secured container of re-purposed Ravagers he’d shown her earlier in the nearest corner of the room. He picked up the bucket and turned, only to find her right behind him. He lowered the bucket, letting her see the newly generated nanos he’d built on his last trip here.

  She peered inside, and he could see the tension and strain she felt through the throbbing vein in her temple. She fidgeted as she moved a small distance away. “I’m still not comfortable seeing them, Micah.”

  “I can assure you that you’ll come to see them as your new best friends.” He set the bucket back on the ground. “I mentioned earlier that there were nanos available during Ashley’s lifetime that reside inside the body. Those served to enhance the body’s immune and healing systems.”

  “You did.” She shifted another half step away from the bucket. The thrum of the electrical equipment in the room muffled her footsteps.

  “There were other types of those machines living inside the body. That variety created a direct interface between the host’s brain and general purpose nanos.” He nodded down at the oozing mass inside the bucket. “That interface connects a human brain with machines that have the ability to create in three dimensions any physical entity—including sophisticated machines—using the problem-solving ability they possess.”

  Sheila blinked, not comprehending.

  He pointed at the bucket once more. “Those machines are intelligent, Sheila. They merely require direction before they do something useful. With proper direction, they could form a room around someone. Or a ground car.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Really. Machines making machines?”

  He offered her a faint smile. “I built Whiskey.”

  “That’s not what I—” She paused and laughed. “Okay, okay, point made. So how does that work?”

  “Once that interface is established, the nanos like those in this bucket belong to the human. You, and you alone, control them. Even others with those communication devices can do nothing with them. To anyone else, they’re just a big pile of sludge in a bucket.” He nodded at the bucket. “That batch belongs to you.”

  She blinked, startled. “Wait. You’re giving them to me? But I’d need those communication machines inside my brain to be able to use them, right?”

  “Exactly.” He moved to a keyboard near the bucket and began typing.

  “How, exactly, would those machines get inside my brain, Micah? It sounds painful.”

  “I can assure you that the process is completely painless.”

  She put her hands on her hips, a look of exasperation on her face. “And how would you know that, Micah? Have you ever had tiny machines injected into your brain?”

  He turned and looked at her, arching an eyebrow. “I just sent them into you and they’re linking up inside your brain right now. Did it hurt?”

  “Did it—wait.” Her eyes flared in anger. “You didn’t tell me you were going to do that!”

  “No, I didn’t.” He tapped a few more keys. “You would have argued, tried to rationalize avoiding the process. Those devices are the key to your survival. Discussion would be an unnecessary delay.” He tapped the keys again and turned to face her righteous fury. “The linking process will take a few more seconds.”

  “I can’t believe you did that! How dare you put something inside me without asking my permission. What if something had gone wrong? What if they… ohhhh.” The last word came out as a surprised, pleasant moan, and her eyes widened.

  He’d seen this reaction before. “You can sense them now, can’t you?”

  “I can… I can sense something.” She swallowed. “This is so strange. It’s like I have… more eyes. Thousands of them.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Right now? It’s giving me a bit of a headache.”

  “That’s normal. The communication interface will learn to filter most of the information before feeding it into your conscious mind. That will eliminate the headaches.”

  “I think they can move.” Sheila frowned. “I think I can make them move.”

  “You can.” He put his hand on her shoulder, not because she needed support, but because he’d seen humans become so absorbed with the new sensory expansion that came with the machines that they lost touch with reality. Having another person’s hand on the shoulder kept them grounded in the real world. He hoped a robot’s hand would work. “Picture something in your mind. Tell the nanos to make whatever it is that you imagine.”

  He watched her eyes flit upward. He knew that meant she was thinking about the image she’d create in her mind. Her eyes re-centered and her face tightened in concentration.

  He didn’t watch the bots. They’d move and form whatever she’d imagined. The far more interesting part of this process came from watching the face of the human as they discovered this new ability. When Ashley’s group brought new people aboard, they’d demonstrate the nanos first, giving their recruits a better understanding of how they worked and what they could do. They’d describe the painless insertion process. They’d educate the new recruit about the initial linking process, the overwhelming flood of new sensory data fed into their minds, and how the bots would filter that data. They’d talk about that initial euphoria that came from those first few creations, the sense of awe they’d experience after something existing only in their minds appeared in an instant before their physical eyes.

  Micah, in his own way, enjoyed seeing that euphoria in their faces. He had another motive in watching Sheila’s face light up, though.
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  He could see Ashley’s face and eyes in those of her distant descendant.

  Sheila, like so many before her in centuries past, spent time rearranging those tiny robots into various shapes, mostly different styles of furniture. She then tried forming them into clothing, laughing as she pulled a dark scarf from the ground and wrapped it around her neck.

  “Don’t forget about the fact that they can move.” She glanced at him, but her eyes were vacant. She’d followed the sound of his voice but didn’t see him. “You aren’t limited to two dimensional, static shapes in a single color. You can form them into larger, more complex machines.”

  Her eyes focused and she startled, as if she’d only just then noticed him. “What?” She glanced at the writing desk she’d constructed with little more than mental images. “Oh. You mentioned that earlier. So I could make myself a ground car?”

  “I suspect that you could.” He fidgeted, performing the odd dance as a means of gaining her undivided attention. “Sheila, I won’t be able to help you once we go our separate ways. I can’t guarantee we’ll end up in the same part of their Headquarters facility, because it’s a massive structure.” He tensed his face. “We might not see each other again until we get back here, to Eden, after we complete our missions. Finding the server is critical.”

  “Do you have any idea where the server might be?”

  He shook his head. “No. The structure is massive, and the server could be anywhere. That’s why it’s critical that we split up, even if we’d both used the portal. We can search more thoroughly and more quickly that way. Time is of the essence.”

  She nodded. He could see the fear in her eyes, and watched as she tried to mask the apprehension. “I understand.” But she didn’t mean that; she wanted them to stick together, to offer each other protection. But she knew as well as anyone that you didn’t always get exactly what you wanted.

  “When we get there, we have to remember that it’s enemy territory, and we’re not invited. They probably won’t have guards in the traditional sense, but we’ll stand out because they’ll know we aren’t supposed to be there. They will shoot to kill, Sheila.” He paused. “I’m telling you this as a means of introducing the idea that you can form the nanos into body armor… and camouflage.”

  Sheila frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s like you did with the clothing you formed. Picture the entire batch surrounding you, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet, covering every square inch of your body. And picture it as armor; think of a projectile flying at you and bouncing aside.”

  He watched the writing desk—the last item she’d built—disappear. Seconds later, Sheila’s body vanished, covered entirely in the dark sludge. “Like this?”

  He moved toward her and rapped the armor, listening to the satisfying metallic clang as his metallic body contacted her exoskeleton. “Perfect. Now… tell the nanos to make themselves invisible.”

  “They can do that?” He could hear the astonishment in her voice.

  “There’s little in the physical plane that they can’t do. Try it.”

  Seconds later, she vanished.

  “Did it work?” Her voice came from the same spot, but he couldn’t see her, not even a shadow cast from the lighting all around.

  “It worked perfectly.” He paused. “When you step through that portal in a few hours, you must ensure that you don this armor. Take advantage of the invisibility capability to ensure you aren’t seen. I’d recommend that you ask the nanos to prevent all sound from inside that armor you wear from escaping, so you aren’t exposed by a random cough. Go ahead and try that.”

  No response.

  He waited for a moment. “I can’t hear you if you’re talking, Sheila. You’ll need to disassemble the armor. Tell the machines to disperse around you so that they aren’t noticeable to others. They’ll follow you.”

  Seconds later, she reappeared. “You’re right, Micah.” She shuddered, but she was smiling, not shaking from some type of distress. “Those machines will be my new best friends.” She brushed her arms, and he suspected she just wanted to ensure her limbs were back. It was a typical reaction after one’s first round of invisibility. “Did everyone have these during the Golden Ages?”

  He sighed as he pulled the memories of that time to his primary memory stores. “Not everyone, but many did. Some avoided them due to a belief that such artificial enhancement was unnatural and wrong. Others gave them up after using them left them feeling disconnected from the world. What drove them from prominence was the fact that, during what you call the Golden Ages, possession of the machines became associated with criminals.”

  “Really?” She looked surprised. “Why?”

  “Security was quite sophisticated by then, but with the general prosperity, crime held little benefit or appeal. For those so driven, though, the invisible body armor made undetected trespassing for any nefarious purposes far more possible.”

  Sheila winced as understanding dawned. “Oh.”

  He made a show of glancing at his wrist as though checking a watch for the time, though he didn’t wear a watch or require one. “We’re nearing my departure time. And there’s one more critical thing I need your help with.”

  She nodded, following him as he left the room. They entered the underground hallway and moved to the door on the opposite side, hiding a room Sheila hadn’t yet seen. After keying in a passcode and opening the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve told the security machines that you’re to be given full access to all rooms on the island. The doors will recognize you and unlock at your touch.”

  He motioned her inside ahead of him. The lights inside turned on as they entered, revealing yet another room of mystery for Eden’s newest visitor.

  Sheila stared around, baffled. Micah felt relief; she hadn’t burst into uncontrolled laughter. That meant she’d not reached her tipping point and triggered her defense mechanism.

  Dozens of mannequins stood upon platforms that covered a large portion of the floor space. The mannequins were incredibly lifelike; skin tone and texture, hair composition, even faint scars and body hair gave an extremely human-like look to each. Sheila stared, as if waiting for them to talk or move at any moment. After a few moments of unrequited waiting, she glanced to the far end of the room, where an obvious robot—one with a dozen arms—and a large server rack and monitor rested.

  Sheila turned to him, clearly baffled. But still not beyond her tipping point. “What is this place, Micah?”

  He nodded at the mannequins. “These are the bodies I’ve built for myself. I can move my brain to any of these body forms, bringing life to them, and taking the personalities created for each out into the world.”

  Sheila walked around, eyeing the men and several of the women. She paused before one of the female mannequins, one possessed of a startling physical beauty. “If you’ve used this body, Micah, then I agree with your earlier comment about looking good in a dress and heels.”

  Micah chuckled. “You might not believe this, but she was a physicist. Not a model or an actress. But, yes, she did look good in any outfit she wore.”

  Sheila gave him a friendly smack on the arm, wincing slightly at the contact with the metal beneath his artificial skin. “Okay. I’ve seen the room and the bodies. What else do I need to know?”

  “First of all, that server”—he pointed at the rack near the back of the room—“will control the newly reprogrammed Ravagers upon the successful completion of our mission. That machine will help us to control them to begin rebuilding the planet for humanity.”

  She blinked. “Rebuild? But there aren’t any people left to live on the—”

  “You’ll understand how to work the machine when the time comes.”

  Sheila opened her mouth to protest, then closed it once more.

  “If you look around, you’ll see far more computers and storage devices. Those are, essentially, my brain. Those machines hold detailed experiences I consider
worthy of remembering in full, and the lessons I’ve learned in my life. My online brain”—he tapped his head—“performs constant backups of new data and observations. The only limitation is that I must be reasonably nearby in order for the process to work.” He looked at her, watching her face. Would she understand?

  She did. “You’ll be too far away, once inside Phoenix Headquarters, to run your mental backups. So, if something happens to you, you’ll… not have a very current backup?”

  “Precisely. It will be as if the trip to Headquarters never happened.” He paused. “Sheila, you need to understand that either of us could die in this mission. I’ve taken steps with the nanos to make sure that if one of us dies, it will be me.”

  “Micah.” Her speech bore a tone of warning… and possible mourning. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “We can’t replace you, Sheila.” He waved his arm around, motioning at the backup servers and extra bodies stocked here. “I’m redundant in the most literal sense. That’s why I’m flying there. They’ll see me, without question. They’ll focus all of their attention on me. And I will get you as much time as possible to find the server and complete our mission.”

  She looked saddened, but no less determined. “You don’t have any idea where that server is, do you?”

  He’d told her that before. She wanted confirmation, with his departure now imminent. “I have hunches, but that’s all. If I knew, I’d try to get the portal to open right on top of it, unplug the thing, and just bring it back here.” He paused. “I can theorize the server will be hidden in the most heavily guarded area in the space station. Find the thickest concentration of guards, and you’ll likely find the server. Use the nanos to ensure you’re not detected or injured.”

  She understood, now. He wasn’t going to try to find the server at all. He would sacrifice himself to buy her time to find it, to deliver the software changes, and to leave without detection. But he saw a deeper fear in her eyes. “I won’t truly die, Sheila. I will lose some time in my memories, but that’s all. You can tell me everything after you’re back.”

 

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