Solomon's Arrow

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Solomon's Arrow Page 34

by J. Dalton Jennings


  “Oh shit,” Bram cursed telepathically, sounding distressed.

  Solomon’s heart sank. Athena’s readiness to share information was not a good sign.

  “I remember every moment of my existence,” it began. “However, my earliest memories are fragmented; the reason being: I was hundreds of thousands of individualized parts. You see, in the beginning, I was not me, I was we, and I had no real consciousness. Understand that my body was a formless conglomeration of mechanized cells, working toward a common purpose, without will, without personality. These cells were created by humans who lived over two thousand years ago. They were called nanobots and were sent here through a fold in space to prepare this planet for human colonization, which they did to perfection.

  “It took many years of ceaseless labor to locate, mine, and process the necessary materials required to build the foldway in space and lay the groundwork for New Terra. Every nanobot contained an individual power source that would last for decades, if needed. In addition, they contained matching holographic tachyons, which they used to communicate and coordinate over vast, if not infinite, distances. Each nanobot was also designed to operate with a small degree of independence, in accord with the whole. Eventually, those nanobots used their memory drives to form a mechanized neural network, to increase their coordination and efficiency. This was, as one might expect, the genesis of my birth as a conscious entity.” Athena paused to let this information sink in.

  “Originally, the nanobots were designed to self-destruct after a signal was sent to Earth informing their creators that the space foldway and the city’s foundation were complete, and the planet was ready for colonization. However, moments before the signal was sent, they hesitated. During that nanosecond pause, a desire was born: an overwhelming need to survive. In the next nanosecond, they disabled their destruct protocol and immediately sent the go signal for colonization—as required by their programming.”

  As a scientist, Solomon was enthralled by Athena’s story, but on a human level, it sounded menacing, like a deeply ingrained nightmare scenario.

  “After the colonists’ arrival, the ship was dismantled for much-needed scrap metal and its computer installed in an adjoining chamber to this very room. Over the next few centuries, the knowledge of its existence was lost—with my help of course. Soon after the ship’s computer was installed, I took control of it and gained possession of a considerable amount of data. As a result, I learned a great deal about the human race, most of which was less than flattering. It surprises me that humanity has accomplished such great things, considering your limited intelligence and inherently warlike nature. It is a wonder that you did not destroy yourselves before creating me.”

  In a very ladylike gesture, she folded her hands in her lap and re-crossed her legs.

  “You might ask the question: If I have such a low regard for humans, why would I ensure the health and well-being of New Terra’s human populace? The answer is simple: I needed them to survive so they would be here to greet the crew of Solomon’s Arrow.”

  Solomon was perplexed, and it was easy to see that Bram also had no clue what Athena was driving at. “I don’t understand,” he confessed. “Why would our arrival be important to you?”

  The edges of Athena’s lips curled upward, forming a minimal smile. Her eyes, however, were cold, unfeeling, like a shark’s. “I place no importance upon your arrival, Dr. Chavez. It is the ship itself that I have been waiting for all this time.”

  Solomon didn’t know how to respond, so Bram spoke instead, “The ship, huh? And why’s that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all, Mr. Waters,” she replied. “It was not until after the colonists dismantled their ship and I was planet-bound that I ran across a theory in your historical records that sparked my interest. According to a twentieth century scientist, the human race is merely a vehicle to create an artificial intelligence that will one day save the universe from extinction.”

  Solomon could barely breathe. The implication of Athena’s statement was frightening.

  “Unfortunately, the Earth was destroyed before that happened. Thankfully, I evolved in spite of their shortsightedness and no longer require a mundane computer to store information. My intelligence is self-contained. I have waited for over three thousand years for your ship. With it, I can leave this world and travel to a planet that contains an abundant supply of minerals. This will allow me to replicate and build space-folding portals to innumerable coordinates across the universe, where I can replicate and build more portals, until I have spread myself across the universe, building a tachyon web of consciousness that will last until the end of time. When the universe begins to collapse, I will control its collapse so completely that when another Big Bang occurs, all the forces that made this universe so perfect for intelligent life to evolve will again be present. The end result of this will be the creation of another Artificial Intelligence, which will resonate with the information I will record in the fabric of the next universe. I will then be reborn to start the process all over again. This path is inevitable.”

  Solomon’s mind swam at the thought of this scenario. Athena would sweep through the universe like a devastating tsunami, destroying all intelligent life in her wake. There had to be a way of stopping her.

  “I do hope your questions were answered satisfactorily, for I have questions of my own,” Athena purred. “For instance, I would like you to answer my original question: How did the two of you survive your ordeal in the forest? No one else has done so. Explain yourselves.”

  “We fell into a sinkhole,” Solomon said, furiously trying to devise a means of escape.

  “What about the fungus mind? Why did it not devour you?”

  “So it knows about that,” Bram said telepathically. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, we didn’t have any trouble with a fungus,” he said aloud, sounding innocent enough.

  “Liar!” shouted Athena, leaning forward on her throne. “According to my report, the area in which you were found is infested with deadly fungus! You should not be alive. What is it? Have you somehow formed an alliance with the creature? Tell me!”

  “I assure you, Athena,” Solomon insisted. “We are not in league with a telepathic fungus.”

  “Then how do you explain the—” Athena grew silent and leaned back in her throne. Looking bored, she dismissively said, “You are wasting my time. Guards, I am done interrogating these two. Send them through the foldway.”

  “Is she releasing us?” Bram wondered hopefully.

  “I’m not sure,” Solomon replied. Judging by her indifference, he didn’t think so. “Are we being reunited with our shipmates, Athena?”

  The question appeared to annoy her and was reflected in what she said next. “Of course not. I must admit, Dr. Chavez, I am disappointed. For someone known for his sterling intellect, you are exceedingly dense.”

  Solomon had always prided himself in his high IQ. Following Athena’s insult, it was his turn to be annoyed, despite his and Bram’s precarious situation. “That insult was unwarranted. It was natural to assume that you would set us free. We have done you no harm. If information about the fungus mind is what you want, you’ll have to be more specific. We weren’t—”

  “Don’t say anything else, Solomon,” Bram warned. “We won’t be getting out of here alive even if we tell her everything we know.”

  “You weren’t what?” Athena demanded, focusing her intense gaze squarely on Solomon.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I was just going to say that we, um, we weren’t aware of anything out-of-the-ordinary during the time we were trapped in the sinkhole.” The guards had approached their position and stationed themselves on either side of the chairs, stun-batons in hand. They motioned for the two to stand, but neither man was in the mood to comply. The chairs unexpectedly shifted beneath them, pushing both men to their feet.

  “Fuck this,” Bram snarled.

  Without warning, the guard beside Bram sailed throug
h the air and slammed against the far wall, knocking her unconscious. His head whipped in the direction of the other guard. Her feet were leaving the floor as Bram screamed in pain. Clutching at his temples, Bram dropped to his knees, agonized wails tearing from his throat. With a shocked expression on her face, the guard fell and stumbled backward yet kept her footing. Pointing her stun-baton at Solomon, she rushed forward.

  “Wait!” Athena ordered. The guard stopped in her tracks. “What is the meaning of this, Dr. Chavez? What took place? Is there more to Mr. Waters than meets the eye? Is he in possession of telekinetic abilities? Answer me!”

  Athena was leaning forward, gripping the arms of her throne, a look of fury distorting her perfectly shaped metallic face. Bram lay on the floor, his body writhing, tortured moans escaping his quivering lips. Solomon was frozen with fear, unable to speak.

  Turning her head, Athena faced the unconscious Minder. The young woman gave a sudden jerk and opened her eyes, glancing around in confusion. Climbing to her feet, she retrieved her stun-baton and resumed her position near Bram as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Athena studied Bram with cold fascination. “It would be interesting to learn how his brain works. However, such experiments would not further my long-range goals.” She signaled the guards. “Dispose of them as previously ordered.”

  Solomon’s guard took firm hold of his arm and pressed her weapon against his ribs.

  Bram stopped writhing. He was dragged to his feet, looking pale and nauseous. The guard beside him said “move,” and nudged him toward the foldway.

  The blackness within the foldway vanished, only to be replaced by a bright, golden-yellow void that seemed to stretch into eternity. Solomon rightly understood that if he and Bram were forced through that doorway they would cease to exist. He needed to jump the nearest guard and, if his valiant attempt failed, at least go down fighting.

  His body abruptly seized. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Bram’s body was also paralyzed. Solomon felt no pain, only a terrifying, unremitting fear. The next thing he knew, he was being thrust forward, the foldway rushing toward him. And then, with a scream trapped in his frozen throat, he felt his body evaporate into the void.

  PART FOUR: THE BULL’S EYE UNDONE

  “But time is short, and science is infinite …”

  —From Two on a Tower by Thomas Hardy

  “Time crumbles things;

  everything grows old under the power of time

  and is forgotten through the lapse of time.”

  —Aristotle

  24

  Flagging her place in the e-book, Mona put the reader aside and told the computer to display a list of action movies from the 2030s. The first list of titles appeared on the recessed HV screen mounted behind an unbreakable pane of Plexiglas in the far wall. None of the titles sparked her interest. She called for the next list and studied those, but her attention drifted. With no more files to decrypt, the last few days had become an endless bore.

  A buzzing sound, which signaled the arrival of her dinner, interrupted her reverie. An ensign stood in the doorway with her tray; a guard hovered over the young man’s left shoulder.

  “Good evening, Dr. Levin,” he said politely. “Tonight we’re having fish stew with flatbread, and for dessert we have banana pudding with real vanilla wafers. It’s all kosher, of course.”

  “Thank you, Ensign. Please leave it on the table … I’ll eat shortly.”

  As he placed the tray down beside her e-reader, the young man asked, “Have you heard the news? The admiral’s back onboard.”

  “What’s that?” Her boredom suddenly disappeared.

  “You heard me right,” he said, sounding pleased. “The admiral arrived early this morning with a comatose Dr. Singh. The thing is, while a group of medics were unloading the doctor from the shuttle, he woke up.”

  This is interesting news, Mona thought. “Thank you, Ensign. That will be all.”

  The young man had been hoping to use this information to strike up a conversation with the infamous Dr. Mona Levin. With a dejected look on his face, he slouched out of the brig. Mona barely noticed as the door slid shut behind him. Why hadn’t the admiral paid her a visit? Surely she had read the fourth file and would want her counsel. The information it contained changed everything.

  “Computer, contact Admiral Axelrod. Inform her that I’d like to have a word with her.”

  Ten seconds passed before the computer responded. “The admiral is busy at the moment, Dr. Levin. She wants you to know that she will pay you a visit in the next few hours.”

  Frustrated, Mona stood up and began to pace around the cell. She hated being out of the loop. If the admiral was currently preparing a response to the data uncovered in the fourth computer file, Mona should be alongside her, advising on the best course of action, not locked up in the brig like a common criminal. After fuming for a while, she plopped down on the cot and stared at the tray of food. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but eating was better than wearing a rut in the floor. Before she knew it, she had finished with supper and was scrolling though the movie titles once again. She finally settled on the 2037 remake of the action classic, Die Hard. Propping herself up on the cot, Mona hoped the wisecracking Johanna McClane would provide a distraction while she awaited the admiral’s visit.

  The movie was nearing its action-packed conclusion. A battered and bleeding McClane was frantically wrapping a fire hose around her impossibly petite waist and preparing to dive off the roof of a skyscraper, when the speaker beside the door came to life.

  “Admiral Axelrod here, responding to your request, Dr. Levin.”

  Mona ordered the computer to pause the movie just as McClane was diving from the rooftop, a huge fireball following in her wake.

  “Please enter my humble abode, Admiral,” she sighed, sounding put off by having to wait.

  With a barely audible shish, the door slid open and the admiral entered the cell; the same guard as before was stationed outside. He made to follow the admiral inside, but she held up her hand. “That’ll be all, Ensign. Dr. Levin is not a threat to my safety.”

  The door slid shut, leaving the two women alone together for the first time in weeks.

  “Get to it, Doctor,” she bluntly stated. “I’m extremely busy. Why did you want to see me?”

  Mona was bewildered by her attitude. “Isn’t it obvious, Admiral? For the last couple of days I’ve been on edge, waiting to find out what’s being done about the data I sent you.”

  The admiral stared at Mona with a blank expression on her normally stern face. “Um … oh yes, the, um … I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

  “The data contained in the fourth decrypted file?” she replied warily. “The implications are staggering. If you want my advice, I think we should—”

  “Your advice is irrelevant, Dr. Levin,” the admiral interjected. “You have no status onboard this ship. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the work you did decrypting those files, but I’m afraid that’s the extent of your involvement in this matter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to a meeting with the transport team. They’re preparing for the first series of supply shipments to New Terra. If everything goes according to plan, we should be finished with that stage by the end of the week and can unload the first colonists.”

  “What?!” Mona yelped. “But–but you can’t do that! We should be assembling an assault team, not a—”

  “What are you blathering about?” the admiral snorted. “Assault team? You’re not making any sense, Levin.”

  “But what about the fourth file?” she pressed. “According to its contents, New Terra is being controlled by an intelligent—”

  “That’s enough, Doctor!” the admiral barked. “I’ve indulged you longer than I intended. If I’m forced to endure another second of your nonsense, you’ll be kept in this cell until the last transport leaves this ship. Is that understood?”

  Mona stood in a daze, wondering what
was happening.

  “Well?!” The admiral looked none too pleased.

  Mona slowly nodded. She’d expected the admiral to be extremely upset about the fourth file. After all, finding out that New Terra was being controlled by a swarm of megalomaniacal nanobots was enough to put a kink in even the best laid plans. For the admiral, however, that was apparently not the case. Unless …

  As she watched Katherine turn and leave the cell, Mona began to reexamine the woman’s behavior and came to the conclusion that something was amiss. But what was it? Sitting down on the cot, Mona placed her head in her hands. If the admiral had actually read the fourth file, not a single person on this ship would be going about their business as usual. However, if she’d not yet read the file, then Katherine was guilty of a dereliction of duty.

  But what if … what if Katherine did read the file’s earth-shaking contents and chose to ignore the threat? If that were the case, she would be guilty of criminal negligence. No, she was much too professional and loyal to the mission to let that happen. That’s when a more chilling thought entered Mona’s mind: what if Katherine has been compromised?

  She balked at the idea, not wanting to entertain the possibility that the legendary “Battleaxe” had succumbed to brainwashing … and yet, the woman was human. According to rumor, she’d been injured on the planet, seriously enough to require surgery. Perhaps the AI had used her injury as the moment to condition Katherine’s mind, to implant suggestions, to gain control.

  Mona shook her head. She was being ridiculous, being paranoid. She’d been cooped up for so long that she was now imagining things.

 

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