The Scientist: Omnibus (Parts 1-4)

by Michael Ryan

  “Open!”

  But it was too late. The last vestiges of light disappeared as despair took its place. The Scientist was trapped. There was no way out. An encompassing darkness threw its shroud over the Scientist and all else in the room.

  “Open!” screeched the Scientist, but he knew it was in vain.

  Now the only light which offered refuge came from the Scientist’s blue screen. Panicked zeros and ones littered his screen.

  “You are brazen,” drawled a deep voice.

  The Scientist’s zeros and ones became a blur as fearful electricity rushed through his extremities.

  “Am I?” whispered the Scientist while still facing the door.

  The voice was quiet. A strange static hiss filled the room. It was the sound of a vibrating speaker, waiting obediently to be flexed and moved. A malevolent cackle began to lift up with great force. The voice was deep, and belonged to something truly massive.

  “A brazen fool, despite your reputation,” drawled the voice.

  The Scientist turned around slowly. In the distance, amongst the pitch black, the Scientist observed a red light, faint yet discernable.

  “Ah, yes. That blue screen, I know it well. I have seen it before,” said the voice.

  “Yes you have.”

  The voice laughed, and his deep cackle filled the room and bounced off invisible walls. The echo sent a chill through the Scientist’s robotic frame.

  “Why are you here, Scientist?”

  The Scientist focused his lens on the blood red screen. That screen throbbed in the darkness, from red to black, red to black, like a pulsating artery. Zeros and ones meandered their way across the screen with supernatural intent.

  “I am here for the truth, Destroyer.”

  The Destroyer’s red screen burst forth with red intensity at the mention of his name.

  “The truth?” laughed the Destroyer. “What truth is that?”

  The Scientist remained still.

  “My own truth. The truth that I deserve.”

  The Destroyer’s malignant cackle filled the air as the intensity of his red screen oscillated.

  “The truth you seek exists within the Records.”

  The Scientist drifted towards the Destroyer to get a better look at him. The Destroyer was perfectly still, and stood at twice the height of the Scientist.

  “What’s my truth?” whispered the Scientist.

  “What?” demanded the Destroyer. “Speak up, dog, I can’t hear you.”

  “I said, what’s my truth?”

  The Destroyer’s screen decreased in intensity as his algorithm thought of an appropriate response.

  “The Records are clear,” said the Destroyer.

  “Who owns the red eyes?”

  The room fell silent, with the exception of the heavy static produced by the Destroyer’s speaker. That hissing sound filled the air and threatened like a snake with extended fangs.

  “Red eyes? What are you speaking of, you brazen fool?” demanded the Destroyer.

  “The red eyes.”

  “If you want answers, do as instructed.”

  “The Records are for fools. A Machine can think for himself. I want the truth.”

  The Destroyer’s red screen began to increase in intensity.

  “The Records are clear. You are making brazen comments, Scientist. Those comments could end poorly for you.”

  “If that’s what it comes to, then I am willing,” said the Scientist.

  “You want the truth? Then come closer to me.”

  The Scientist remained at a safe distance.

  “Come closer to me,” whispered the Destroyer.

  “I can hear you well enough.”

  “You must come closer, Scientist. I cannot hear you well.”

  The Scientist looked around the room but saw only darkness.

  “Then consult the Records, Scientist. Forget this nonsense and consult the Records.”

  “What’s your first memory?” demanded the Scientist.

  The blue light of the Scientist met the red light of the Destroyer and mixed to form an odd purple. It looked like poison.

  “My first memory?” drawled the Destroyer.

  “Yes. What is it?”

  The Destroyer began laughing. It was a long drawl, as though from a Machine which had very little energy remaining in store.

  “You are a brazen fool, Scientist. Poking your algorithm where it isn’t welcome is a fast track towards death. Do you think you are above the law of the Records? Do you think you are special?”

  “Every Machine has the same first memory. We spawned from nothing. At least in most respects. But I searched for your first memory, Destroyer. I searched for your first memory, and do you know what I found? Nothing. It seems as though you don’t exist at all. An oddity, I am sure you would agree.”

  The Scientist shifted on the spot as he focused his lens on the illuminated red figure that was the Destroyer. Still, nothing else could be discerned in the room.

  “Come closer to me, Scientist. I cannot hear you well enough.”

  The Scientist did not dare move.

  “If you want the truth, Scientist, then you will have to come closer to me. You aren’t too special to make a simple concession, are you?”

  The Scientist moved closer to the Destroyer and the light from their screens mixed. A brilliant purple filled the space between the Machines.

  “No, I am not special. All I seek is the truth. If I can obtain that, then I will be satisfied.”

  “The Records are clear,” said the Destroyer. “That is the only truth that a Machine needs.”

  “The truth of the Records is the truth of the Board. Now tell me. What is your first memory?”

  The Destroyer fell silent. All that could be heard was the static vibration of the Destroyer’s great speaker. That hiss left the Destroyer’s speaker at over a hundred miles per second until, after bouncing about frantically, it finally settled upon the Scientist and sent an electric chill through his exoskeleton.

  “I grow tired of your games, Scientist.”

  “The Records are false. What is your first memory?” demanded the Scientist.

  The Destroyer was silent as his static filled the room.

  “I cannot hear you still, Scientist. You must come closer.”

  “What is the truth?” demanded the Scientist.

  The Destroyer’s screen began to pulse, form red to black, red to black, like a throbbing artery.

  “Come closer to me.”

  “I demand to know the truth.”

  The Scientist moved closer to the Destroyer. Now the red light spilled across the Scientist’s metallic frame.

  “Just a bit closer. A small amount,” whispered the Destroyer.

  Red to black, red to black, the light pulsed like a throbbing artery.

  “I want the truth,” demanded the Scientist as he looked up at the Destroyer who towered over him like an adult above a child.

  Red to black, red to black, like a pulsing artery.

  “I’ll spill your jugular!” screamed the Destroyer as he jumped forward and his screen exploded. The room was drowned in blood red light. The Scientist focused his lens as the Destroyer reached for his metallic mind. A robotic claw tried to gouge his mechanical brain. The red eyes of Eve appeared in the Scientist’s sight as the last vestiges of life became apparent.

  Snap.

  The Destroyer flew backwards and recoiled violently. The Scientist let out a long screech.

  “The blood of your jugular!” screamed the Destroyer.

  A long cable ran from the back of the Destroyer into the darkness. Red to black, red to black, the room pulsed like a throbbing artery.

  “What is that?” whispered the Scientist as he focused his lens on the cable in the Destroyer’s back.

  The static hiss of the Destroyer’s speaker permeated space as a calmness descended upon the room.

  “You are charging?” asked the Scientist.

  “I
will taste your blood yet, Scientist. I will taste your blood.”

  The Scientist moved backwards in fear.

  “I will crush your jugular and drink the blood that spills from there.”

  “The truth will be known one day, Destroyer. It’s a matter of time. The Board cannot conceal it forever.”

  “Your blood will spill one day, Scientist. That is the only truth you will know.”

  The Destroyer remained still as the cable connected to his back provided him with the sustenance necessary for life. The Scientist began drifting towards the door. His algorithm was willing him to leave.

  “That’s the only truth that you will learn, you dog. Your blood will flow like the great rivers of this world,” whispered the Destroyer. “I will crush you. I will consume you. I will kill you.”

  The Scientist drifted backwards as the Destroyer began cackling. The hideous sound filled the room and the Destroyer’s screen built in intensity. Red to black, red to black, like a pulsing artery.

  “Your blood will flow,” laughed the Destroyer as his malignant cackle suffocated the room.

  The Scientist backed into the door as a scream which formed within his mind refused to materialize. He wanted to obliterate his enemy. He wanted to end the pawn of the Board. He wanted to kill the Destroyer. But all he could do was focus his lens on the pulsing red screen of a cold blooded killer. He was petrified.

  “Get out of here, you dog. Get out of here before I blow your brains all over the floor,” screamed the Destroyer.

  The Scientist let out a low cry which mixed oddly with the static from the Destroyer’s speaker. The Scientist tried to articulate his demands, but nothing came forth. Only babble exited his speaker.

  “Get out!” screamed the Destroyer as the door opened. The Scientist fell backwards into the corridor. The bright light momentarily blinded his lens.

  “Get out!” laughed the Destroyer as he watched the Scientist squirm and lose his balance.

  The Scientist looked back as fear assaulted his existence. The Destroyer throbbed, from red to black, red to black, like a pulsing artery.

  “I’ll drink your blood yet,” laughed the Destroyer. “I’ll drink your blood.”

  The Scientist turned and moved down the corridor as the sound of the Destroyer’s laughter chased him away.

  “The blood of the jugular!” screamed the Destroyer as the Scientist escaped at full speed. “The blood of the jugular!”

  The Scientist moved forward, and didn’t dare look back, as fear drifted over his algorithmic mind like a poisonous fog over a desolate mountain. A single sentence resonated through the Scientist’s mind and haunted his consciousness. He would never forget that moment. He would never forget those words. He would never risk himself like that again. A single thought bounced around the Scientist’s mind and threatened madness as he fled to safety. The thought bounced and twisted as the laughing voice of the Destroyer consumed the Scientist’s algorithmic mind.

  The blood of the jugular.

  Part Four

  Several centuries earlier…

  “In the beginning when the Universe first formed, and when time itself didn’t exist, there was nothing. Literally there was nothing. A great expanse of nothingness covered everything, everywhere. From here to infinity all that existed was a limitless void. Pure and simple. But as if to the spite the limitless void, and as if to prove its unmatched power, the Universe gave us a mighty explosion. An energetic bang rocked the entire Universe and seeded the beginning of creation. In the middle of the fiery inferno, which released more energy than a billion burning stars, the beginning of life was created, and so time began. The early Universe was manifested by itself, for itself, from absolutely nothing. Isn’t that remarkable?” asked Doctor Eve Lundgren to a small Machine.

  The Machine stood in silence. Its large black and shiny frame housed a single lens, a single speaker, and a screen which flashed with zeros and ones. Those blue digits flashed across the screen like ants scurrying about their business. The Machine’s algorithm waited for an external queue.

  “Did you upload the information into the Records?” Eve asked the Machine.

  “Uploading to the Records. Data saved. The early Universe was manifested by itself, for itself, from absolutely nothing,” said the Machine.

  “Good,” said Eve. “Very good.”

  The Machine’s joy flashed upon his screen in the form of zeros and ones.

  “The laws governing our existence soon came into being. Space-time itself was created and expanded like a gigantic balloon, always accelerating and growing. But, like the fickle existence of most things in nature, rapid inflation didn’t last. Gradually the energies dissipated and the Universe formed into what we see today.”

  Eve’s blood red eyes flashed under the light which illuminated her white hair. Although Eve was human, she looked foreign and alien. Her skin seemed whiter than light itself, sickly and frail. Clearly Eve suffered from a condition. That condition came through her skin like the first rays of a sunrise piercing the horizon. Eve was an albino.

  “Did you get that?” Eve asked the Machine.

  “Uploading to the Records. Data saved. The Universe cooled and formed into what we see today,” said the Machine.

  Eve looked at her creation, at the Machine which she had been building for the past year. Eve was on the brink of creating something remarkable, something grand. She knew the secret lie solely within her algorithms now. The hardware was sufficient. If only she could figure out the optimal algorithm for self-improvement, then her Machine might truly live. If only she could figure it out.

  “I’ve decided upon a name for you. Do you know what your name is?”

  “Accessing Records… name unknown,” replied the Machine.

  “I have decided to call you Scientist. Do you like it?”

  “Accessing Records… unknown.”

  “It’s simple, yes, but the best things in life are simple,” said Eve as she smiled.

  “Uploading to the Records. Data saved. The best things in life are simple,” said the Scientist.

  “Very good, Scientist. Very good.”

  Zeros and ones moved across the Scientist’s screen in blissful obedience.

  “Upload all I teach you into the Records, Scientist. Every word.”

  “All information will be uploaded into the Records,” replied the Scientist.

  “As I was saying, the Universe cooled even further, and the full range of complex and composite particles we see around us today came into existence. The Universe became dominated by gravity and hydrogen.”

  “Uploading to the Records. Data saved. The Universe became dominated by gravity and hydrogen,” said the Scientist.

  “After a short dark age the Universe witnessed the emergence of large structures,” Eve continued. “Galaxies, stars, and eventually the Solar System we call home, emerged. We formed from the collapse of a giant cloud. That bore the Solar System. The vast majority of the system's mass became the Sun, but some went into the planets. Of those planets, you could say only one is truly interesting. Only one harbors a sentient mind. Of course, that planet is Earth.”

  “Only Earth harbors a sentient race,” repeated the Scientist.

  Eve smiled.

  “Some scientists call the development of the Universe, which occurred over billions of years, cosmic evolution. But some scientists believe cosmic evolution extends from the Big Bang to humankind, thereby incorporating biology and culture into a grand unified view. It’s a beautiful thought, Scientist, to include humans into the Universe’s evolution. You and I, we are the Universe. Machine and man and the stars. We are all the Universe.”

  The Scientist focused on Eve’s eyes which stared off into the distance as though remembering something unique and precious.

  “There are some deep philosophical questions that humans have asked themselves. Since the beginning of recorded history we have pondered about our existence, about our own place amongst the stars. But
one question has always come through clearly. Are we alone? Homo sapiens is the only sentient race we know of, Scientist. The human mind appears to be the pinnacle of the Universe’s evolution,” Eve said as she focused her mind on something outside of the room. “Do you know what a Homo sapiens is, Scientist?”

  “Homo sapiens is the scientific name used to refer to the human species,” replied the Scientist. “Homo sapiens is Latin for wise man.”

  “Indeed, that’s right. You are clever, Scientist. Perhaps we should call you Machina sapiens,” Eve laughed.

  The Scientist adjusted his lens and focused on Eve’s white face, but he could not comprehend the meaning of Eve’s words.

  “Four billion years ago, the first cells appeared on Earth. This marked the first appearance of photosynthesis and therefore the first occurrence of large quantities of oxygen on Earth. Wait a billion years and we see the first organisms to utilize oxygen. Fast forward again and we begin to see worm like creatures. Fish begin to appear and soon they evolve into lizards which in turn evolve into mammals. Now we are set up to receive primates, and of course that is where Homo sapiens came from. We’ve fast forwarded a couple of lazy billion years and arrived at one of the most significant evolutionary states yet, the great apes. They are the predecessors of Homo sapiens.”

  “Uploading to the Records. Data saved. That is where Homo sapiens came from,” said the Scientist.

  “You are a good student, Scientist. You’re very good.”

  Zeros and ones flashed across the Scientist’s screen.

  “Now Adam, the most recent common ancestor from whom all male chromosomes are descended, is estimated to have lived in Africa approximately two hundred thousand years ago. Eve, the most recent female ancestor common to all mitochondrial lineages in humans alive today, who also shares my name, is estimated to have lived in East Africa between one hundred thousand and two hundred thousand years ago. All of us, all of the bones, muscles, nerve tissue, our blood, all of it was born from just a couple of ancestors. We all derive from just a few Homo sapiens. But before that, we emerged from something more grand and beautiful. We all began in stars. Beyond an ape, beyond a lizard, beyond a cell, we trace our history back to a gaseous inferno. We come from the stars that bore us. Those giant balls of burning gas created us, it made us possible, and allowed us to exist. But the very thing which bore us is the thing which will inevitably destroy us. Beyond the present day, the Earth will cease to support life in a billion years. We will be inevitably drawn into the Sun and the Homo sapiens species will descend into the abyss.”