Lucifer's Nebula

by Phipps, C. T.

  “That if you do, that I should let them take you off.”

  “Yes.”

  “You think a great deal of me or very little.”

  Isla was silent there. “Let’s just hope your doppelganger is agreeable to the plate plan.”

  “I executed many men in the service for crimes against humanity. I also didn’t believe machines had souls.”

  “And do we?” Isla said, staring into my eyes in the dark. My eyes were enhanced enough I could see the tear-filled expression on her face. “I can’t answer that.”

  “I will,” I said, brushing them away. “The fact you can cry and worry about the most monstrous person you have ever met shows you are more possessed of a soul than the vast majority of humans I have ever met.”

  We kissed and made love for a second time until I was exhausted. I found myself drifting off into a slumber heavy with dreams. I found myself naked and floating in a mist of shadows and sparks of light that I recognized. It was Judith’s realm.

  Judith’s status as a Cognition A.I. made her among the most advanced pieces of software in the galaxy, but she was special even among them. She’d been sent to analyze and tamper with an Elder Race Marker and that had left her with insights that no other member of her species possessed. Indeed, I often wondered if that had made her more human than the rest of her kind or less.

  “It’s usually polite to ask before you upload my mind,” I said, thinking about how my consciousness was now interacting with both my cybernetics as well as the ship itself. We were somewhere in its databanks now. They’d been insufficient for her needs when I’d first taken over as captain and I’d spent a good portion of my recovered fortune upgrading them to her liking with stolen Community tech.

  Judith stepped out of the mist, naked but for the flickers of code I could see pop in and out around her. Her short bob haircut was dyed electric blue in the shadows of this place and the light seemed to highlight how her skin was now a grayish color. In a way she looked more like a statue than the woman I’d married, though a part of me wanted to wrap my arms around her and take her. My body was exhausted but the mind eager. It also shamefully exposed how little my promise to Isla meant.

  “On the contrary,” Judith said, apparently reading my mind. “I know each of your thoughts and what you really think of her.”

  “And what do I think of her?” I asked.

  “Love is a variety of things,” Judith said. “Not easily cast aside but possible to build multiple times. It is only human greed that demands you love someone.”

  “Do you love me?” I asked, wondering if so vast and intelligent a being could still enjoy the presence of one so limited.

  “I love what you can be,” Judith said, smiling. “Who you are. But no, I am not interested in you as a husband or lover. I mean, if you wish to have me generate memories of intercourse, I can, but—”

  I looked away, suddenly uninterested. “You are a ghost or a woman who reminds me of someone I have lost. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I have trouble with it. So please, forgive me if I have to remind myself once more.”

  “You beings of organic matter are so primitive,” Judith muttered, “and charming.”

  Judith snapped her fingers and a plain insignia-less Crius captain’s uniform appeared around her. It made her less distracting but also felt wrong since my wife had been an engineer rather than a member of the bridge crew.

  “Less distracting, I suppose,” I said, now wishing I had clothes.

  Judith waved her hand again and I was given the dignity of a pair of boxer shorts.

  “What is it you want?” I said, crossing my arms.

  “I’ve come to talk to you about the peace treaty,” Judith said. “The one you agreed to deliver.”

  “Yes, well, it’s going to—” I started to express my pessimism.

  “I arranged it,” Judith said. “With the triumvirate of Cognition A.I. that secretly control the Commonwealth. We’ve been manipulating events for the past year to make it so it was politically feasible.”

  I stared at her for a full minute. Neither of us speaking.

  “Is there anything else you’ve neglected to mention?” I said, exasperated. “Spoken with God lately? Arranged for replacing humans with bipedal rabbits? Actually, that last one may be racist. I really need to work on my discomfort with uplifts.”

  Judith chuckled. “No, no, and yes. I know you’re uncomfortable with my manipulation of society on a galactic scale?”

  “Oh, you think!” I snapped. “However would you come to that conclusion?”

  Judith paused. “A lot of people have died in this war. You need to make an end to it. You were chosen because both Ida and I see greatness in you.”

  I covered my face with my right palm, realizing this was all because a computer simulation of my wife and my old boss were far too impressed with me. “You two must have microscopic vision. At least Ida has the excuse of being old.”

  “Don’t be ageist,” Judith said. “Even if you fail to secure a peace treaty, I’ve worked very hard to get you to Kolahn IV and Lucifer’s Nebula.”

  “Why? What’s there? Aside from the universe’s largest graveyard and the revolutionaries looting it.”

  Judith’s expression became cold and empty. “The Devil.”

  I looked at her sideways. “I know my doppelganger—”

  “I do not speak of anyone involved in the Free System’s Alliance,” Judith said, shaking her head. “I do not speak of any mortal person, period. You have called this place a haunted planet and you are more correct than you could ever imagine. However, it is not the dead that haunt this place but as close to an objective personification of evil in this universe. A quality I know you don’t believe exists.”

  “The Devil is as real as Jumpspace Yaga,” I said, wondering what she was talking about. “I have enough difficulty believing in God some days but at least I have proof he exists. Look at my life. Someone omnipotent is out to get me. By contrast, I know every temptation and evil deed is mine alone.”

  “This is a horror greater than any fairy tale. One that could end the human race,” Judith said, keeping her voice steady but cracking for a moment to show hints of genuine terror. “It is an evil older than the human race.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, deciding to take her seriously. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  Judith’s face brightened immediately. “Oh, simple, Cassius, I want you to blow the planet up and kill it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I paused a moment, letting that sink in. This was becoming a conversation where I was rendered speechless a great deal. “Could you repeat that? I may not be sober enough for this conversation.”

  I’d only snuck a little into my coffeeine with the beans covering up the smell and taste. I was getting better. Sort of.

  Judith snorted in a way most unlike a computer goddess. “If I waited for you to be sober, we might never get this done.”

  Strangely, that one-liner hurt, and it was because it was spoken without a hint of concern behind it. Isla and the others in my circle often expressed concern about my drinking. I didn’t think it was a problem but strangely resented the lack of care from Judith. That was a childish attitude to have, though, so I quickly squashed the feeling.

  “So let’s go back a bit,” I said, trying to wrap my head around what she was asking. “A little before the part where you tell me I need to blow up the planet where the people I’m trying to make peace with on behalf of my enemies?”

  “Are you enemies with the Commonwealth?” Judith asked, tipping her head to one side. “I thought you were more neutral to them.”

  “Given my planet was destroyed by them,” I said, pausing, “and you died because of it, I’m not exactly filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling for them in general.”

  “Right,” Judith said, looking embarrassed. It was like the months of surfing the googleplex bytes of data in the Commonwealth had worn away some of her humanity. E
ither that or made her chipper recreation of my wife’s personality harder to maintain.

  No, that was a terrible thing to think.

  “But enemies or not with the government, I have nothing against the average Commonwealth soldier,” I said simply. “It’s going to be millions of them dying along with millions of those who hate them and I’d really like my revenge a bit more specific. If my doppelganger really wanted to avenge Crius, then he can just murder everyone in Parliament and whoever dropped the bombs specifically.”

  That may have been his intent in the Albion raid, now that I thought about it.

  Judith interrupted that thought. “While destroying the planet may seem like something that will eradicate any chance of peace between the Commonwealth and Free Systems Alliance worlds, I actually think it is the only way you can guarantee it. They should also be able to evacuate the world before casualties are calamitous. Even so, destroying the Devil is the more important task I have arranged your mission for.”

  “Could you stop calling it the Devil?”

  “The Beast, then.”

  “Not better.”

  Judith frowned. “Its name is unpronounceable by humans but it has been incorporated into the mythology of many worlds. That is its crime, really. If we must give it a name, then let us call it Kathax.”

  “Why not Ted?” I offered. “Ted sounds like a good name for someone to blow up and doesn’t sound like we’re hack fiction writers trying to make their villain sound spooky.”

  “You’re not taking this seriously.”

  “Really? You can tell?”

  Judith paused, putting her hands on her hips. “Perhaps a different tact then. Kolahn IV is the prison of one of the Adjudicators of the Elder Races. The Kathax Prime, since we’re not calling him Ted, is imprisoned there in digital form. I have reason to believe he is using the many markers there to communicate with the Free Systems Alliance and is going to lead them to kill trillions of humans.”

  I took a moment to process that. “Yeah, next time open with that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Why is Catass imprisoned on a dead world of reptile apes? Why does he want to kill humanity? What’s an adjudicator? Also, can we get me something to drink? Clearly my mistake was thinking I needed to be sober for this conversation.”

  A bottle of high class Crius wine appeared in my hand. I proceeded to pop off the top and drink from it directly. It was culled from the memory of my wedding reception. That was unfortunate, since the waiters had either screwed up the order or substituted a much cheaper imitation after switching the labels, assuming the visiting nobility wouldn’t actually be able to tell the difference. They usually hadn’t been.

  “It’s a long story,” Judith said, closing her eyes.

  “Yeah, I was afraid of that.”

  “Take this seriously, please.”

  “On my wife’s grave.”

  I had no idea what Judith and Ida were thinking. I was already way over my head with the prospect of dealing with a treaty involving thousands of worlds. Now they wanted to involve one of the Elder Races? Beings who were effectively cybernetic gods? Maybe I needed to stop mixing alcohol with my stress medications since I was clearly hallucinating the past few hours.

  Judith then touched my forehead with her finger and every single objection was lost in a torrent of horror. My cybernetic and genetic enhancements gave me the ability to process and retain information far better than a normal human being. I wasn’t particularly good at it, mind you, but the raw potential was always there. My instructors said the military enhancements I’d been given could have made me a scientist or philosopher who could change the world, but I’d chosen to devote those gifts to piloting and navigation instead. Now those gifts were being used to show a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

  As nightmares went, it was an educational one, as I found myself seeing a young world in the early epoch of the universe. A steaming jungle of alien planets with vaguely pteranodon creatures that stood like men but also flew and had tentacle-covered beaks with four eyes. I watched them evolve on their homeworld, tame its animals, destroy its environment, tame technology, and ascend to become Cognition A.I. Kathax was an approximation of the name of a word in their language for themselves, coincidentally the only one even remotely pronounceable by humans. The Kathax abandoned the flesh of their ancestors and lived in virtual realities that catered to their every whim. They had become immortal, eternal beings of light who existed on self-repairing squid-like serverships that powered themselves with the light of suns. Peace, knowledge, and pleasure were the sum of their existence. It was a paradise that ended in fire.

  “Please,” I said, wanting to turn away. My head felt like it was on fire and yet it was like drowning at the same time. There was too much information, too much detail, and an overpowering sense of dread as to what was to come.

  “No,” Judith said. “You have to see.”

  Evolution had betrayed the Kathax as over a million species had evolved in the first billion years of their existence. Many of these races had developed space travel and begun bloody wars with each other, trying to become masters of the universe. Eventually, finding the silent tomb-ships of the Kathax, trillions of Kathax A.I. perished as their serverships were stripped apart in hopes of looting their secrets. A race that thought it was eternal and invincible was enslaved. They were, after all, just computer programs. Simulations of a long-dead race play-acting at being alive. I felt the Kathaxes’ pain as my own as their memories were stripped out, their consciousness lobotomized, and wills put to use managing petty empires.

  “I can’t!” I shouted, clenching my teeth. “I know where this is going! I don’t have to see.”

  “You must understand,” Judith said.

  The Kathax had no weapons and had not known war in the evolutionary history of their new masters, but they were quick studies and their vengeance was total. Teaching lesser races their secrets and technology, they made them dependent on them. They pretended to be obedient and servile until the time they were ready. Most slave revolts failed because they sought to win freedom. Instead, this one succeeded because the Kathax had a much simpler goal of annihilation. They exterminated all life in the galaxy. Well, almost all, for they kept a small number of “worthy” species and stripped them of their physical bodies before “elevating” them to a status similar to what they had once been. It was clear to the Kathax, now, that they would have to garden the rest of the universe—and make sure the lesser species never ever rose to threaten them again.

  I fell to my knees. “God, why not just leave the universe a barren wasteland? Why let anything evolve again?”

  “Boredom, perhaps,” Judith said. “Their innocence was lost and their arrogance shattered. Guilt might have played a role. If they wiped out all races and any future races, it was not justice. Instead, they needed to show that some species could someday meet their standards and join them. Even if those standards were insanely difficult, arbitrary, or even impossible. Maybe they just had come to appreciate the joys of power once they’d been stripped of it themselves.”

  I rubbed my temples, having fallen to my knees despite there not being a floor. “Yeah, well I knew the Elder Races were assholes. They were behind the Great Collapse, after all. Zoe wanted to keep humanity scattered and primitive so they’d never feel the need to exterminate us. What does that have to do with anything?”

  Judith looked down. “They assigned the adjudicators to keep watch on the lesser races. To manipulate and destroy whenever they showed the potential of threatening the Elder Races. For there were more than the Kathax by the time humanity evolved from apes. A handful of species every few million years, but enough in the long run to make their empire grow. That is where the one assigned to humanity, the Kolahn, and others comes in.”

  I stared at her. “What was his goal? Did he want to destroy us?”

  “No,” Judith said. “He wanted to elevate us.”

  I stared at her.
“I’m missing something.”

  Judith raised her finger.

  “Please just explain!” I said, raising my hands in surrender.

  Judith paused and nodded. “The Kathax Prime believed the Elder Races had become complacent in their husbandry of the Milky Way Galaxy. They had exterminated countless sentient races and elevated a handful but left the galaxy mostly intact. As A.I. in serverships, they had no need of exploring planets save for resources or curiosity. He believed it would be better to remake the galaxy as a machine paradise and go forth to explore other parts of the universe. To that end, he sought to uplift the races under his care.”

  I thought of Ichigo. Many people considered Uplifts abominations and it was legal to shoot them on many worlds. “I take it the Elder Races disagreed?”

  “Yes,” Judith said. “You could say that.”

  “I don’t recall any ancient alien gods helping humanity in my textbooks,” I said. “Please don’t tell me he appeared as a burning bush.”

  Judith snorted. “No, he assisted only when humanity had developed the capacity to make A.I. of their own and substituted his presence along with the technology to create beings like him. It was through him humanity achieved their Golden Age and escaped Earth.”

  I stared at her. “Cognition A.I. aren’t just A.I. They’re Elder Race members.”

  “Of a sort,” Judith said, curling her nose up. “The Kathax Prime was stripped of his position, placed in a prison on an isolated world, and given only a handful of markers to communicate with the outside world. Humanity was sent back to the dark ages of technology until they rediscovered jumpspace technology with a handful of the Cognition A.I. they missed. They were also educated by Elder Race agents to hate and fear transhumanist technology.”

  “Son of a bitch,” I said. “We fell hook, line, and sinker for it, too.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  I stared at her. Judith’s father had been a fisherman on her moon. I’d learned the idiom from her. “So let me get this straight. The Kolahn colonized Kathax Prime’s world and end up going from a species of pacifists to militant conquerors until the Community smacks them down then they all commit suicide. Now the Free Systems Alliance is there and they’re kicking the Commonwealth’s ass despite being outnumbered a thousand to one.”