The Unlicensed Consciousness

by Travis Borne

  Just then, as if a cloud went by, the sea floor darkened. Trixie looked up. The blue was gone, replaced by intense red. Her happy expression gave way to a bubble-spewing pout and Alex shrugged his shoulders, palms up. They put in the work, Alex had his exploit, they’d enacted his elaborate plan to a T, but today Trixie would not get hers. Although, he’d also been looking forward to the intoxicating bit of pleasure with her, there would be no nature swim, no dolphin assisted torpedoing, and no further exploring the vibrant coral reef—all canceled. Alex signaled a thumbs up and reluctantly their fins fluttered, pushing them toward the unwelcome color.

  As they reached the surface, they felt the dizzying drain from the lend. Their eyes met, mutually acknowledging it. Good chance many were near the cave’s entrance, killed instantly from the blast, but likely several had weaseled deep, therefore living long enough to panic and suffer terribly. They knew all too well what a successful high-output lend felt like, and this was a good one. And, by the feel of it, something lingered, tugging on their mentality: people were still in the process of dying, perhaps just now running out of air, still panicked and trapped, or being squished slowly.

  Trixie unlatched her heavy gear, letting it sink and pulled on the aluminum ladder. Drained, she’d lost the energy to climb so Alex helped her. Not saying a word, they plopped onto the boat’s teak-wood benches, lying under the clear red sky. Fourteen minutes later they were calm enough to log out cleanly.

  “What’s going on?” Alex asked, upon opening his eyes to see Ted above him.

  “We’re on emergency power. The control room has been hijacked, there isn’t much time.”

  Every lender finished logging out without issue and the buffer did manage to get fully topped off. The status was high green but with everyone suddenly off duty, like a train-that-could after rounding the mountain’s peak, it began the descent. A dynamically increasing burden on the buffer: Ted scrambled to put together a timeline, wondering how he could have miscalculated by such drastic margins.

  Broadcast feed status: mid green and dropping rapidly.

  Remaining buffer, new estimate: 28 minutes until full depletion.

  76. The Fusion Room

  The elevator stopped. The hole didn’t. Probably continues to hell, Jim thought. Sliding the metal gate aside, he stepped out the opposite side into a rocky cavern about twice the length of his apartment. Rico followed. Extreme depth had changed the composition of earth: rocks were grey and no other color, and jagged stalagmites and stalactites adorned the walls and ceiling. There were two yellow lights, one dangling from above and another above the steel door incongruently inserted into the stone ahead. Through a cave resembling a rocky throat, and slower than was necessary considering the circumstances, they walked toward the door.

  “Cool down here,” Rico said. He wiped the moist dust from the touch pad and entered the code again on yet another illuminated panel. The thick steel door opened slowly, disappearing into the wall exactly like the one a million miles above.

  The change had more contrast than black to white, brightly lit and immaculately clean: FUSION POWER ROOM. It was spotless and dry and the walls gleamed like pearls. Three of four reactors hummed with a shifting green glow; the fourth was inanimate and silent.

  Rico examined one. It was twelve feet in length and five feet in diameter and looked like knots of ten-inch-wide platinum tubes intertwining into each other. The outer shape resembled rows of inflated inner-tubes that could initiate a mind-fuck. A moving glow grew intense at the first donut and worked its way to the last, then back again, through every curve in a rhythmic flow like water sloshing back and forth. A control screen centered the first of its paradoxically-shaped oddities where a diagram demonstrated the flow of its inner substances using orange and green. The display also graphed efficiency and had other detailed status information. Above each generator were gleaming platinum portals hung like upside-down funnels; perhaps to inhale contaminants in the event of a meltdown. Speculation was marijuana and Jim and Rico had taken six massive tokes on the gravity bong. Stuff that rabbit hole!

  Maybe this one is a backup, Rico contemplated some more, walking between the off and working one. He examined the curious technology with wide-open eyes. “Hard to believe these generators power the entire town. We take it for granted that we always have power. Most don’t even wonder why, yet here they are, deep underground, hidden.”

  “Everyone’s oblivious to something, I suppose,” Jim said, looking around, walking deeper inside. “Technology is amazing. I bet they power more than the town, likely the perimeter defenses through some means of transference. We had it all once upon a time, and it was great—until the damn machines turned on us. Let’s find those controls, get the power on and get—” He discovered it beyond the last generator. “Look, Rico, over here.” A light flickered and under it, against the back wall, was a control panel similar to those in the control room. Beside it on the right, a door, and on the left, a dark hallway. Jim stood above the control panel, examining it up and down.

  But Rico was still stumbling between the generators. He ran a hand along the tubes. An alien-green electric discharge ghosted out, tingling his skin. His eyes spasmed wide and he played with the energy field, moving his hand around and about the machine. He inserted his fingers into a space between two platinum tubes and they—they appeared translucent! He could feel the energy flowing into his veins. He wanted to put his face against it; he wanted to take his clothes off; he wanted climb on top of the damn thing naked. He wanted to, get inside. The call was alluring and every hair on his body stood up as though an orgasmic field was activating his skin, his everything, sinking into his core like a hot chicken nugget navigating his throat to meet his starved belly. And it intensified with each pass of the green glow! And his mind—

  “Rico, come on already!” Jim yelled. “I think you got this.”

  “Uh, sorry, Jim.” He snapped out of it, blinking his eyes rapidly, then headed over. “My father told me stories about this room—” He shook his head to dislodge the weird thoughts he’d gotten. “He also told me about—”

  “What, Rico?” Jim said impatiently. “Can you get it turned back on or what? We have absolutely no time to mess around!”

  “Right.” Rico slapped his own face, rather hard, and sat at the panel.

  Jim shook his head, about to remind him not to lose it again. The panel was clean as if someone had just wiped it, the whole room was that way: spotless, sterile, bright. The forty-inch curved screen lit up with reds, purples, and bright greens as Rico put his hand near it.

  “Fuck!” Jim jolted. A man stepped out from the dark hallway to their left. “A machine!”

  Rico looked up as well, not quite shocked, just dazed by the surreality of it. Pleased to see the machine, he smiled. “A bot. It must be, Nel—”

  “Rico watch out!” Jim shoved him aside and lifted his crowbar. The glossy-white plastic man put an arm up to shield his head, cowered, and peered in fright with a squint. Jim brought the crowbar down hard. Millimeters before the steel made contact Rico caught his arm, turning the would-be devastating blow into a mere tap on the robot’s forearm.

  “Jim, No!” Rico held his arm tight with all he had. Jim pushed. Rico, still grabbing his forearm, forced it back. The catch was a stroke of luck because Jim was athletically fast, fit, and strong. The tension between the two flared in the confusion of the moment while the bot continued crouching—watching the two. He had large and beautiful, human-like eyes. They emitted only the slightest glow and gleamed spring-green; at another angle they twinkled with a harmonious blue. And his face could morph to make perfect human-like expressions. There was a look in Rico’s eyes as if he knew something Jim didn’t, and he conveyed it passionately. They stared each other down, then Jim turned bitterly to the robot with a pulse of power. Rico countered once more. “Jim. Please. He is friendly.” They exchanged tenacious breaths, their gaze mere inches apart, and slowly, both withdrew.

 
They both looked to the robotic man. Jim held stiff, keeping his defensive, offensive, and animosity. Deep down, he hated all machines—what they had taken: everything.

  “Are you—Nelman?” Rico asked slowly.

  “Who the fuck is Nelman?” Jim asked quickly, still tensely roused.

  “I am.” The machine spoke and stood up. “May I ask who you—” His brow lifted and he tilted his head. “—you must be Rico.” It sounded somewhat similar to Ted’s voice, very calm and gentle in its demeanor, but with a more youthful, less raspy, yet somber tone.

  “Yes, and this is my good friend Jim. How did you know my name?”

  Nelman walked over to the room beside the control panel and opened it. Inside were two chairs and a small round table with a chessboard on it. Above was a ventilation system. On the sides were drawers, there was a workbench, a few lockers, and various tools hanging from the wall. Everything, like the fusion room itself, was immaculately clean.

  “Your father is a good man with much experience. We talked a great deal before the many survivors started to arrive. And we played chess together, right here, long ago. Then his visits stopped and I’ve been alone ever since. I am so very pleased to have company once again. Will you join me for a game?”

  “My father told me stories about a man named Nelman,” Rico said, leaning to Jim. “I thought he was just entertaining me. But, it’s all true.” Jim nodded, half sideways. “Nelman, what are you doing way down here?”

  “It is my job to service the reactors,” Nelman explained. “And when one becomes unstable I attempt to equalize the reaction. If I cannot I must perform a power-down sequence and disable it, permanently. They will not last forever. The one nearest the door nearly exploded four years ago. If I hadn’t been here your home above would be a crater now. Rico, do you know why Felix never came back to visit me? He was the only one who ever came down here.”

  “I’m very sorry to tell you this, Nelman, but Felix died. There was an attack—”

  “Oh, no,” Nelman lamented, putting his head down.

  “He saved many lives. Had I known I would’ve visited you. He kept numerous things a secret, per orders we assume. He did tell me about you, sort of, but I never had the codes for this place. And I—guess I didn’t quite believe him either. He did like to joke around a lot and tell tall tales about the past—stories.”

  Jim interrupted. “I hate to cut short the reunion, Nelman, but we need to redirect power to our broadcast room. We are on emergency power. It won’t last long. The lender feed is off, sending out only what’s in the buffer. We have only minutes, if that.”

  “I have waited for this day, for a long time,” Nelman said with a sigh. He turned his head up happily; his plastic face formed a smile of relief. “I have been lonely down here for so many years. It’s my duty to keep these generators running at all costs, but, if the problem is something above, then I will, finally be able to die.” Nelman broke down, relieved, elated, then put his arms up in joy.

  “Wait,” Rico said, “you want to die?”

  “It’s so lonely here. I cannot bear it any longer. If the feed stops, I will die. This machine that holds me—” He waved his hands down along his body. “—will have a new ego, if you reinstate the feed. I have control of my backups and I deleted them all. I can finally end. My existence—” He put a hand where a human heart would be. “—I was so, so alone. I cannot take another—I’m sure you can understand.”

  “Rico, enough of this bullshit!” Jim exclaimed. “Get on that control panel and reroute the power right fucking now. We have to get it back or we’re all fucked!”

  Rico was taken aback by the deep feelings of Nelman, a machine. He could see the real and genuine desire for him to end it, and this was a chance for him to do so without abandoning his assignment—his programming? Alone down here, all this time… He understood but had to get the power rerouted for the safety of their town above. He turned away from Nelman and toward the control panel.

  “Nelman, will you help us?” Rico asked. From the seat he looked up one final time. Nelman held still, then crossed his arms, so Rico attempted the relatively simple modifications himself. The panel was very similar to the one in the control room and Rico found he had no problem working with it. He needed to momentarily cease power to the control room, hopefully forcing the reset, and reroute uninterruptible power to the broadcast room. He easily managed to get the sequence outlined but before it would initiate it asked for a password. Rico hesitated in thought for a moment.

  “The same code!” Jim said, looking over his shoulder. Rico tried the code but it wouldn’t take. The display noted: 9 attempts remaining. Jim was very distressed, became red and puffed his cheeks; he was so overloaded with anxiety he felt like he had to take a shit and couldn’t stand still.

  “Just try it again!” Jim said. Reluctantly Rico tried it again, although he knew he’d entered it correctly the first time.

  8 attempts remaining.

  “Shit,” Jim said, and he turned to Nelman. “Nelman. We need the password.”

  “I have been lonely for too long. I’m very depressed. I cannot. I must end.” Nelman turned his head away.

  Pressured, Rico suddenly had an alarming realization, “Jim, if the power does go down—” He turned to Nelman. “Felix, my father! He will die as well.” Nelman turned his head and uncrossed his arms and placed them on his hips.

  “You told me my friend had been killed. Did you lie to me?” Nelman cocked his head in a fast quirky manner.

  “Rico is right,” Jim said. “It didn’t occur to me but if the power goes down his consciousness could be erased—or perhaps after time it'll find the main system as Q told us. Or get lost altogether.”

  “Nelman,” Rico said, “a copy of him was made in one of the special maps of our system, named Old Town. Upon his death, his consciousness somehow rooted itself into that copy.”

  Nelman thought about it. He recalled Felix telling him stories of the map Rico mentioned—and before that. He also remembered how Felix told him that he’d been someone else long ago; someone who’d self-wiped after becoming hopelessly depressed; someone named Rafael, who could do that kind of thing; someone with unlocked and very special capacities; someone who was also a very good friend of his.

  “Felix. My friend—alive. But, he cannot visit me,” Nelman said. He pondered for a moment. “I will do it for him, but I really wish he could visit me again. Can either of you visit with me once in a while? Play chess with me, perhaps?”

  “We’ll do better than that, Nelman!” Jim stated in a loud and powerful tone. “You get this power on right now, and after that, you’re coming up to the surface, with us.”

  “But I, my orders—”

  “We’re bringing you up if we have to carry you. Things are finally going to change in our town.” Jim looked to Rico. Rico nodded and a good feeling traveled between them both. “It’s time to get back to humanity, make decisions, unite together—and build once again.” Jim wanted technology, like it was, more than anything—and he was tired of being a sheep. He had decided, just then—it was time to create once again!

  “No more secrets,” Rico said proudly with a smile.

  “Move aside please, sir,” Nelman said decisively. His plastic face formed serious brows. They watched as he commanded the panel. He entered the code: AMIGOS-PARA-SIEMPRE. The program executed, shutting all power to the control room momentarily. He continued tapping away and a line illuminated on the screen’s schematic, brightly squiggling its way up the diagram. The broadcast room received full power, bypassing the control room.

  “It is done.”

  “You’re the man, Nelman,” Jim said, putting a strong hand on his shoulder; he joggled Nelman’s thin robotic body. “Now let’s get out of here—together.”

  “But, the reactor,” Nelman worried.

  “It’s gonna be on a rotation from now on. For now, you're with us.” Jim shook his hand solidly.

  Nelman reached for
a remote alarm device and the three headed to the surface, once again sealing the fusion power room. Nelman looked up with the largest possible smile his face could generate and the elevator creaked upward through the shaft. Jim and Rico were emotionally infected by his elation and smiled at each other. The dull day-in day-out routine, listening to someone, somewhere, from long ago—things were going to change. It was time to take back control.

  77. Painful Punishment

  Lights flickered, then everything went dark. A crescendo was Abell’s breathing and the color changed on his normally white face. He began his transformation. The ventilation systems just as soon started flooding the hallway with fresh air and everything brightened once again. The reboot began.

  “It’s opening,” Ron whispered, peeking around the corner. It had taken longer than he expected and for a moment he thought Rico and Jim might have failed in their attempt.

  Abell’s eyes opened wide then squinted, almost as if they were huffing along with his lungs. Blood vessels burst, filling his whites with a spiderweb of red and he straight-armed Ron, forcing him aside, unintentionally and harder than was nice. And in the center of the hall, facing the slowly opening control-room door, he took his stance. Abell—was ready.

  Wait for it…

  His face became turgid, boiling blood swelling it to that of a red raging bull and he remembered what Jim had said: David participated in the plot to kill Amy. His nostrils blew hot steam. The door was now halfway open. His calves pulsed like pistons, ballooning his brown slacks, testing their threads. Then he let ’er rip. His calf muscles initiated the launch and his tree-trunk legs exploded with the power of a bulldozer sucking nitrous oxide.