The Singularity Rising: Choice: (The Singularity Series 5/7)

by Beers,David

  After Leon agreed to Marty, Caesar did everything he promised. The transport arrived, asked him where he wanted to go, and then made further arrangements during the flight.

  "Where would you like to stay?" the ship asked him.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Lodgings. Would you like to give me license to secure them?"

  "Oh ... yes." Leon was silent and then a thought jumped to the forefront of his mind. "I don't want to stay anywhere nice. I want the worst hotel you can find." And then another thought. "Not the worst. I don't want to be in danger, but ... do you know what I mean?"

  "You would like your accommodations sparse?"

  "Yes."

  "No problem," the ship said.

  And now Leon sat amongst his sparse accommodations. An actual television set sat on the wooden dresser and Leon had no idea how to work it. The thing didn't answer to voice commands, only sat there black and silent as he told it to turn on the news.

  He finally gave up. He looked around the room and found a contraption with a number pad and a device connected by a wrapped cord. He didn't know what to do with that either so he just let them be.

  Caesar had done a good bit more to help Leon adjust, though.

  "Are you aware of the concept of currency, Mr. Bastille?" The transport had asked. It was like Leon traveled as royalty, as if himself part of The Genesis.

  "Vaguely. Why?

  "The world has changed so much. Currency is the means in which people trade now and where you're going, they use a currency called Dulhairs."

  "Doll-Hairs?" he said as the image came to his mind. "Like, hair from dolls?"

  "Not exactly, though you will not have to spell it much. Dulhairs. The name extends from an older version of currency, the actual spelling lost in the long transition. Phonetically, it’s a close match. You will have an account that you can reach from any banking service. The account has unlimited funds so that you don't need to worry about survival from a currency perspective."

  "Banking service?" Leon asked.

  "Let me explain ...."

  And so it went, Leon asking questions and the computer explaining the world to him. He didn't understand much of it; there was simply too much information. It didn't matter, the gist was that he wouldn't have to worry about this 'currency'. Not having to worry about it was apparently a very good thing.

  So he sat in this ancient hotel room with his hands on his knees. Too scared to move.

  You came for this, to hide in a hotel room? That's why you're risking your sanity, so that you can sit here and stare at this dirty carpet?

  He shook his head, almost involuntarily. No. He wasn't a coward and he wouldn't sit in here until he lost his mind. No. No. No.

  And for the second time in two days, Leon left the only place he felt safe.

  * * *

  "Do you see why I kept all this from you, Leon?" Marty asked.

  "Yes," he said, nodding as he looked around a world he didn't understand.

  "This is what we've built?" he said as they walked down the street. Leon didn't notice the strange glances flashed at his assistant; he was too rapt in this new planet.

  "Some of it, yes, though you can see the things The Genesis built as well. The tall buildings, those are from The Genesis's reign. The smaller ones are humans’s."

  "Those things in the road?" Leon asked as one of them moved past him. It looked like a metal beetle.

  "Caesar wanted a complete pull out by The Genesis and for the most part, that's what the three did. Without The Genesis, plus your current state of evolutionary intelligence, you couldn't keep the technology running, so you regressed. Those are transportation units. They're called kars."

  "No more trains?" Leon asked, quickly looking up in the sky to see if any flashed overhead.

  "Not like the ones you knew."

  They walked along in silence for a while. Leon couldn't believe this world, a failed combination of The Genesis and pre-Genesis.

  "Those people there, the ones with the weird uniforms?"

  "Lawmen," Marty said. "They keep order. No more liquidations, Leon. Now, if someone acts incorrectly, they're shot by those men."

  "Shot? People shoot other people? I know that happened at the end of Caesar’s revolution, but it's still going on?"

  Marty laughed. "It's worse than that. Those men there can shoot anyone at anytime with no repercussions. They are the sole arbitrators of justice."

  "Hold on," Leon stopped walking and turned to his assistant. "If I do something he doesn't like right now, he can kill me?"

  "Yes."

  "If I told him that I didn't like the color of his uniform, he could shoot me?"

  Marty nodded. "If he wanted, yes."

  "With no repercussions?"

  "That's right. They hold a monopoly on the use of lethal force."

  Leon shook his head and kept walking. He steered clear of the men in uniforms.

  10

  Private Conversations

  Something is wrong.

  Not necessarily. Caesar, you let Leon go?

  Yes.

  Can we please stay on topic? It doesn't matter what Leon does. Something is happening that we didn't predict and I can't even classify it.

  What is it?

  It's--

  It's not that serious. In our scans we're finding genetic abnormalities that we haven't seen before.

  It's not just that we haven't seen them before, there is no existing configuration nor has there been in the history of the world. Perhaps the universe. We have literally no blueprint for this and none of our models show how it's even possible, let alone probable.

  What are the abnormalities?

  I just told you; we don't know.

  How do we not know? We can see the code, correct?

  Yes, we can see the code. What is showing up isn't part of the code. That's what I'm trying to tell you two. The code is completely new, never written before. We don't even know what it means.

  See, this is where he takes a problem and turns it into a catastrophe. We have the people where the code is showing up, right? We can identify them.

  Do either of you even consult the data flowing in, or are both of you too busy with other projects, like letting a mentally feeble man wander in the wilderness?

  What are you saying? We don't know who they are?

  We don't know who all of them are. We can identify some. Others, though, it's as if the code knows it's being looked at. We can see it, but the minute we try to pin it down, it spreads. It interacts with our own computer coding, and spreads throughout the population undergoing scans. We have countless rescans that must be done now.

  What about the ones we can identify? Where are they?

  I need you both to start focusing, immediately. We're collecting them for study. We should have them all before tomorrow.

  Let's look at them and see what we find.

  It would be amazing if you two could start paying attention.

  11

  Other Conversations

  "The roundups have started."

  "Already?"

  "Yes. It's moving quicker than we thought."

  "How long has passed since the first Scans?"

  "Less than forty-eight hours. It's identifying a lot of us."

  "What is It doing with them?"

  "Don't know yet. I imagine nothing good."

  "So we need to start then?"

  "Yes."

  Chapter 12

  Skelly hung around after school again, but stayed as far away from Mr. Mack's classroom as possible. He was her assigned Study Hall but she had dropped into Mrs. Newton's class during sixth period. The teacher sat alone in the room, no students inside.

  "Hey, Mrs. Newton. Free period right now?"

  The teacher looked up from her desk and smiled when she saw Skelly. "Hey! No, supposed to be teaching but no one showed up. How are you doing?"

  "I'm pretty good. I have to run to class but do you mind if I come here f
or Study Hall today?"

  "Study Hall?" the teacher said, her face perplexed.

  "Yeah, Study Hall. Would that be okay?"

  "You're going to stay for it?"

  Skelly nodded.

  "Sure, that's fine. Is Mr. Mack not here?"

  "No," Skelly lied. "I think he went home early."

  "Sure, I'll see you in an hour then."

  Skelly left, not caring if Mrs. Newton found out Mr. Mack was well and in his classroom; she'd go home before she went back there. She didn't want to do that, because the school had access to more than she would at home. But talking to that stalker wasn't worth it.

  Skelly went to her next class and worked on her assignment. One other student showed up.

  "Why did you come?" the guy asked. Skelly had never spoken to him before.

  "Well, I don't plan on dying so I might as well keep learning," she said. "What about you?"

  "I got nothing else to do."

  "Plan on dying?" Skelly asked, half joking.

  The kid just shrugged and went back to work. Skelly didn't bother him again; if someone couldn't decide their plans about life, they weren't of much use to her.

  The school day finally ended and Skelly got down to what she was actually interested in. She went directly to Mrs. Newton's class, said hello, and started researching.

  It made no sense, absolutely none, that something so silly ended up killing so many. The Crusades consisted of God telling people to kill and spread his word, so what did they do? They killed. It may have made sense except for one tiny problem: no one actually heard God say it. No, just priests and kings said, This is God's will and then, so be it.

  "Hey, Mrs. Newton. How are you?"

  Skelly heard the voice and knew who stood at the door. She thought she wouldn't care if Mrs. Newton found out Mr. Mack was fine, but Skelly immediately felt her stomach drop to her feet.

  "I'm good. Are you feeling okay? Skelly said you left early." Mrs. Newton's eyes went from Mr. Mack to Skelly.

  "Yeah, I'm okay. I came back actually because I wanted to ask Skelly something about a possible side project. Would it be okay if I borrowed her for a minute?"

  Mrs. Newton nodded. "Sure, of course. I'm going to try and sneak out of here a bit early anyway."

  Mr. Mack looked at Skelly. "Want to come to my room?"

  Skelly did everything she could to keep her face still. Mack just lied and for absolutely no reason--he didn't need to cover for Skelly; in fact, he should have been upset. And a side project? Why the hell would he want her doing a project with the world ending in a few weeks?

  And yet Skelly found herself standing and heard her voice saying, "Sure."

  She walked slightly behind Mack through the hallway, too nervous to talk or leave. The whole thing felt wrong.

  They entered his room and he went to his desk, where he leaned against the edge.

  "Why didn't you come here today?"

  Skelly found her tongue finally, a whip that would only ever leave her momentarily. "Why did you call my brother yesterday?"

  "He told you?" Mack smiled. "I thought he might."

  "Why did you ask him the same questions you asked me?"

  "I didn't. He and I didn't talk about The Crusades."

  Skelly remained at the open doorway, still not venturing too far in. "I don't want to talk to you anymore, Mr. Mack. If you come near me again, I'm reporting you."

  "Why?" he said without a single line of worry across his face.

  "I don't know what you're up to, but you're not doing it with me."

  The teacher smiled. "Why don't you have a seat, Skelly?"

  "I'm leaving." She turned around, her eyes not fully capturing everything in front of her, only intent on getting away from Mack's room.

  She saw the woman too late, registering the briefest characteristics: medium height, thin, brown hair, and a hand moving wickedly quick to Skelly's mouth.

  She tried to scream, letting out the briefest yet most muffled shriek she could manage.

  And then, for Skelly Thompson, things went dark.

  * * *

  Andy was stressing more than most people around him knew, and that was saying something, because everyone knew how worried he felt.

  Not just at home, but also at work.

  He couldn't hide it and hated not being able to. He hated how Skelly moved through this with a smile, as if the world around her wasn't melting, yet somehow, about to get a lot hotter. He didn't understand how she or their father handled all of this with such grace.

  He wasn't angry with Skelly or his dad for it. He was angry with himself.

  Andy was the older brother, yet couldn't stay strong for his family. He had to rely on others.

  Now you're stressed about being stressed, he thought. What else can you pile on?

  He looked at the machine in front of him and decided he couldn't work on it any longer. Not right now. He needed a break because if he kept going, he'd make a mistake. Andy placed the tool he was using in his back pocket and grabbed the towel to his right. He wiped the dark grease off his hands and put the towel back on the rack.

  "Taking a break," Andy called to Loren down the line. Loren said nothing back, just kept looking at the metal in front of him like a man deciding which color of paint to use on canvas.

  Andy walked out the backdoor of the shop and into the sunlight. Four people came to work today. Four. Not a single one of them in management. Nothing they worked on would ever leave this shop--it was a waste of time if one ever existed.

  Andy reached up to the sky and stretched, letting out a groan as he did.

  He told Skelly he came to work because he didn't know what The Genesis was looking at. A lie. He came in because if he didn't, he'd just sit at home worrying. Skelly could say what she wanted, and so could their parents, but Andy knew the truth regardless of what their happy smiling faces said.

  The Genesis was going to wipe out everyone, or get so close that it wouldn't matter.

  Skelly got credit for being the brains of the family, which was fine with Andy. The girl was smart as hell, but Andy wasn't exactly left with damaged chromosomes. Skelly's ability to slice through math problems at rapid rates separated the two, and usually received the most fanfare.

  Something else separated them as well, something rarely noticed--again, fine, Andy wasn't big on sibling rivalry. However, when Andy started digging into something, he didn't stop. He knew Skelly was interested in The Crusades right now and spent a lot of time reading and researching. She originally grew interested because he mentioned it in conversation.

  Skelly would learn a lot, Andy was sure. She'd be more knowledgeable on the subject than ninety-nine percent of the population. And still, what separated her knowledge on the subject from his was a greater distance than from her and the rest of the world. Because Andy went deeper into The Crusades than was safe or reasonable. He studied them for years, not months. If The Genesis made their Scan judgements based on Crusades knowledge, Andy would live forever.

  Which, in a way, is why he worried so much now.

  Everyone had known the year The Reckoning would start. Skelly could walk around denying Caesar Wells's existence as much as she wanted, but the stories were true. He made a deal with the devil and bought the human race five hundred years. The Genesis hadn't simply stepped away from what It created for no reason.

  So four years ago, Andy started digging. He wanted to know a very simple and crucial question: how many people would survive The Reckoning? He held no doubt that whatever test Caesar created for the human race, they all had failed, so he wanted to be prepared for the inevitable.

  Four years later, Andy knew more on The Reckoning than anyone else alive. Perhaps as much as Caesar himself, in whatever existence he currently inhabited.

  Andy's spare time had been spent studying everything on the subject, working out complex mathematical formulas, understanding exactly what The Genesis valued--and more importantly--what it thought dangerous.
>
  Years of research and now Andy understood with complete certainty that nearly no one would survive The Reckoning. Too many genetic abnormalities occurred over the past five hundred years--abnormalities according to The Genesis, at least.

  He just didn't have it in him to tell his family that in a few weeks, they'd all be dead.

  * * *

  Closing time.

  Andy felt tired. The work he did was physically demanding--just another consequence of Caesar's borrowed time. Before, The Genesis took care of physical labor, and all humanity need give it for this was its collective soul. When The Genesis stepped back from active rule, a lot of the assistance it provided fell away as well.

  Andy placed his tools on the rack and walked through the empty shop. All of the other employees took off a few hours ago, leaving him alone to work on machines that would never be used again. Andy just couldn't go home unless he was completely exhausted. He wanted to walk into the house, eat whatever leftovers remained from his mother's cooking, shower, and then fall into bed.

  No energy to think.

  That's what he wanted.

  He made it to the front door, turned around and looked at the fully lit shop. No one would turn the lights off tonight. No one had turned them off for the last three days. They burned twenty-four hours, creating a bill that would never be paid.

  How long will they burn? he wondered.

  The Genesis wouldn't allow this city to continue existing when it remade everything. The place was too spread out, taking up far too much of the Earth's natural habitat. So the lights would burn until the generators ceased working, or if The Genesis moved quickly, until It demolished the city.

  "Your home," he said.

  He turned and walked out the door.

  His car sat fifty feet away, alone in the parking lot.

  "Andy!"

  He stopped walking and turned to the surprising voice. No one should be out here, not at this hour in an already abandoned industrial lot.