Post-Human Series Books 1-4

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Post-Human Series Books 1-4 Page 25

by David Simpson


  There was a knock on his door. He couldn’t open it with his mind’s eye any longer, so he crossed the room and pulled the sliding panel open manually. Thel floated before him. She was looking at him strangely—almost expectantly.

  “Come in,” he said, feeling hesitant but trying to hide it. He turned away from the door and crossed back to his desk to retrieve his jacket and helmet.

  She closed the sliding door and noted his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

  He stopped by his desk and looked up at her, a helpless expression on his face. “What went wrong, Thel?”

  “Life,” she said, smiling. “For most of us, not everything goes exactly as we plan it.”

  He leaned against his desk and grimaced. “This could be bad. The Governing Council loathes me. They’ll use this as an excuse to take Venus away from us.”

  “What?” Thel reacted with genuine surprise. “That’s ridiculous. That’s not possible.”

  “It’s true. They hate me. They use me when it’s convenient, but they hate me. It’s one of those keep-your-enemies-close kind of deals. They’ve been trying to take Venus away from me from the beginning. It’s because I’m thirty-six—they think I’m a child.”

  “Well, it’s difficult for a bunch of centenarians to accept that someone a fraction of their age can do things that they can’t.” She crossed the room and leaned on the desk, inches away from him; he could smell the apple scent from her shampoo.

  But I can’t control what I want to do.

  “You’ll bounce back, James. You’re too talented—too special not to. Even if they took this project from you, you’d prove them wrong down the road. And they know it too—and if they really do hate you as you say they do, that’s the real reason.”

  James closed his eyes tight, Thel’s words reverberating in his mind. “Special. Not for long.”

  She smiled. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re looking at an upgrade to a 210 IQ, within a decade.”

  “What?” Thel was stunned. She knew James had access to extremely important officials—if he said it, it was true—but how could it be?

  “I know it’s selfish but—”

  She shook herself from the daze built by his revelation and put her arm around him. “I understand.” She moved in front of him and kissed him.

  He looked up at her, mouth agape.

  “I love you because I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t want to lose that either,” she said.

  “You kissed me.”

  “I love you.”

  She loved him? He’d wanted to hear those words for a long time. He’d dreamt of it. But it couldn’t be. “Thel...we can’t—”

  “We can,” she countered, her eyes locked with his. “Right now. We don’t need thirty minutes to pack up—no one is taking anything but their flight suits—we could have been at the airlock in ninety seconds.”

  She was right. Why did he say thirty minutes? She continued looking straight into his eyes, strangely, fixedly, expectantly.

  “Because we can do it doesn’t mean we should. It doesn’t make it right,” James replied.

  She touched his face and pressed her torso against his. “People have lived for more than half a century, never being offline, never able to break the rules because the nans will record it, report it, and destroy their lives. But the nans aren’t functioning. No one is watching us. There is no law.”

  “It still doesn’t make it right, Thel. Divorce and extramarital affairs are illegal for a reason.”

  “Spare me.”

  “It’s true, Thel. It’s the price we pay for immortality. We can’t go switching partners and procreating endlessly throughout eternity. Family would become meaningless. Civilization would break down.”

  “Now you sound like the Governing Council.”

  James gave a long sigh. “Maybe so. But I still can’t see my way around it.”

  “Is it right that two people who love each other aren’t allowed to be together? Should people be trapped in loveless marriages because of decisions they made when they were barely more than children?”

  Her words cut right through to the heart of James’s feelings.

  “It’s not your fault that divorce is illegal. It’s not your fault that you feel the way you do. And it’s not fair for her to punish you forever for being human—and for making the mistake of marrying her when you were too young to know better. It’s not your fault that you are only human.”

  “Everything you just said was right...but I’m trapped.”

  “I love you, James. I’m ready to choose what I want now. So are you. And if we don’t do this now, if we don’t take our chance right this minute, while we’re free, you know as well as I do that we’ll spend the next hundred years, maybe the next millennium, maybe the rest of eternity, regretting it. People don’t go offline every day, James. It’s rare and becoming rarer. It might never happen to us again.” She kissed him again, lightly and quickly. “It’s up to you.”

  This was one of those decisive moments, James thought, where you made a decision that would alter you forever. He looked pained as he struggled to weigh the variables in his mind.

  She smiled at him and raised his chin with her hand so his eyes met hers. “Don’t be afraid. I just want to make ‘the beast with two backs’ with you.”

  He suddenly laughed. “Othello.”

  “That’s right.” She kissed him again.

  He kissed her.

  In a moment, he had her on her back on his desk and was removing her shirt, sucking on her mouth, tasting her neck. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders.

  She whispered his name...

  5

  At 10:08 a.m. Pacific time, Thel and James rendezvoused with the rest of the research team at the main airlock. Some awkward glances were exchanged between Thel and the others, but James didn’t notice; he was focused on the task at hand—getting his crew home safely.

  “All right, team, this is how this is going to go. First, we need to stick together. We won’t have the Net to guide our trajectories, and the cloud cover is thick and dark, so stay within one meter of the person directly in front of you. If we get separated, there’ll be no way to find them out there. Hopefully, I’ll be able to guide us straight up to the stratosphere. We won’t be able to communicate once we activate our magnetic fields, other than with hand gestures, so this is the itinerary. The first step, obviously, is opening the airlock. Now, keep in mind that without the outer magnetic field operating, there will be nothing to stop a massive change in air pressure within the lab. The pressure is immense outside and would crush you like a grape if you weren’t protected.”

  “Lovely thought,” Rich whispered to Djanet.

  “The moment we release the airlock, begin pushing toward the door, or the pressure will knock you back into the lab. Once we’ve cleared the cloud cover, I’ll need to take a moment to read the stars and locate Earth. As soon as I’m ready, I’ll signal to the rest of you, and we’ll move out slow. Again, stay very close to the person in front of you. Old-timer, you take the rear, okay?”

  “You got it, buddy.”

  “Okay. I think if everything goes smoothly, I can have you all back on Earth in ninety minutes. We’ll descend to Vancouver and report for a nan transfusion and get you all back online. Then, all that will be left for you to do will be to head home, relax, and eat a late lunch.”

  “So, are you saying we’ll be getting back just before noon Pacific?” Rich asked.

  “Give or take. I think that’s a fair estimate,” James replied.

  “Well, I would just like to point out that today’s download occurs at 11:00 a.m. Pacific time—just under an hour from now. So, with the exception of you, Commander, when we get back to Earth, the rest of us will officially be the stupidest people on the planet.”

  The team laughed, and the tension of the moment was mercifully broken.

  “Don’t worry guys, I�
��ll protect you from the geniuses,” James replied.

  “You better,” said Old-timer, wearing a grin.

  “Okay, team, let’s get those helmets on and get ready. As soon as I’ve got my hand on the airlock handle, I want you to activate your fields. As soon as I give the signal that I’m opening the door, I want you to move forward. Copy?”

  “We’re ready,” Thel answered for everyone.

  “Okay,” James said, taking a deep breath before putting on his helmet.

  He wasted no time moving to the airlock handle. It was fixed on the wall, three meters from the actual door; that was important because as soon as the seal was broken, the door would swing open violently. James turned to the group and pointed, giving them the signal to activate their fields, and four green lights appeared, cocooning the crew. James activated his field last, then signaled to the crew to move forward as he opened the door.

  The pressure was so powerful that the door swung open fast enough to rip free from its hinges and tear toward Thel like a missile. It bounced harmlessly off of her magnetic field, but the sight of a 150-kilogram metallic projectile streaking through the room and impacting one of the team members sent their collective adrenaline, already running high, even higher. The team quickly exited one after the other and immediately began to ascend. James turned for one last look at the rest of the crew before they entered the cloud cover. Don’t lose them, he thought to himself.

  Gravity couldn’t be felt once one was cocooned in a magnetic field. The clouds were so thick that it was as though darkness had tangibility. He had to concentrate. He knew if he began to veer to one side or the other, they might spend hours trapped in the darkness. He felt he was in a maze. He had to keep moving forward and trust he would get somewhere in the end.

  After a few minutes, he and the others emerged. Stars speckled the Venusian sky—a million destinations. He looked for Earth, but it wasn’t where he was expecting it. He had veered to one side and emerged dozens of kilometers from where he planned to be. It didn’t matter—Earth was still the brightest star in the sky and easy to find.

  He paused for a moment while he got his bearings and waited for his companions to gather behind him. He signaled to them that he was about to head out, and they signaled that they understood. His motion was slow at first, since he needed to give the others a chance to manually adjust to his speed. Soon, however, they were all moving across the sky like emerald streaks of lightning, heading home.

  6

  Earth—and therefore life as well—is a fluke. The thought had never struck James with as much intensity as when the five little points of light approached Earth’s stratosphere. The Earth seemed to emanate life; its oceans gleamed in the sunlight, and its atmosphere bathed the surface in a beautiful blue glow. Not hellish like Venus, not red and frozen like Mars had previously been, but peaceful and perfect. Working on terraforming for his entire adult life had taught James just how impossible the odds were of a life-supporting planet forming on its own. If the continents hadn’t emerged out of the water, if the planet’s rotation hadn’t been just right, if it hadn’t been just the right distance from just the right kind of sun, none of it would exist. Some days, days like today, James was amazed at the beauty.

  If only it was like that every day.

  James had to guess the location of Vancouver. Judging by the position of the Earth and the time of day, he was able to put them over the general vicinity of his hometown. Much of the northern west coast of North America was covered by clouds, but they seemed light and peaceful compared to the clouds on Venus.

  He and the others entered the clouds in a free fall. Now he would find out how strong he was at navigating manually—would he emerge over Vancouver, or would he have led them too far south toward Seattle, maybe too far to the west over Vancouver Island, maybe too far east into some forest in the middle of nowhere?

  When the clouds began to break, he caught a glimpse of something strange. It was only a momentary glimpse, and he told himself it couldn’t be right. It had looked like flames. He kept dropping. A moment or two later, the clouds abated completely, and he saw where he was: over the east side of Vancouver, facing south. His mouth opened, and his eyes widened as he looked at his city. It was on fire.

  He looked to his left and watched as the nearby city of Surrey burned, then turned to his right and saw the downtown core, also aflame. He spun and looked toward the North Shore Mountains, toward his home, and watched the smoke billow. He couldn’t see a single person—not a single green glow above the city anywhere.

  The rest of the crew were next to him now. They had all disengaged their magnetic fields and were trying to talk to him. He disengaged his own field so he could listen.

  “...have been an earthquake!” Thel was finishing exclaiming.

  “I have to get home!” James said.

  “We’ll follow you!” Old-timer replied.

  James reengaged his magnetic field and streaked toward his house. He exhaled in relief when he saw that it was not on fire. In fact, his house and all those in his neighborhood seemed to be structurally unaffected by the earthquake.

  “Thank God.”

  He landed on his front lawn, disengaged his magnetic field, and ran toward the front door. In his panic, he forgot that his mind’s eye was not functioning, and he thumped awkwardly against his front door. “Jesus!” he shouted. He took a step back and, this time intentionally, put his shoulder into the door. It wouldn’t give; it was reinforced steel, and the hinges were surprisingly strong. He reengaged his magnetic field and flew into the door—it came apart like butter.

  Thel and the others set down on James’s lawn just as he made his way inside.

  “God. Lousy day for luck,” Rich said, his voice full of sympathy. “What is this now? Geology screwing us?”

  Thel stepped over the remnants of the front door and entered the house. The ground floor seemed completely undisturbed. Then she and the others were startled by James’s cry from above.

  Thel shot upward toward the bedroom entrance. James was stumbling backward, nearly stepping off the edge of his doorway, but Thel was there to stop him.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He turned to her with his face white and his eyes wide, as if he’d seen hell. “Don’t go in there, Thel,” he replied.

  “What happened?” She looked past his shoulder and screamed.

  Old-timer had just reached the doorway as James pulled her out of the room with him and set her down on the ground floor.

  “Dear God,” Old-timer uttered as he, Rich, and Djanet peered inside the room.

  There wasn’t anyone in there—at least not anyone recognizable. What appeared to be the organic material that once constituted a human being was splashed all over the room. It looked as though someone had taken several buckets of blood and hair and used them to paint the bed, carpet, and walls. A fetid odor of blood hung in the air. It briefly crossed Old-timer’s mind that he was breathing the remnants of Katherine Keats. Suddenly nauseated, he covered his mouth and nose and turned away.

  James was now on his knees, having removed his helmet, trying to get his breath. Thel held him, but she was as horrified as he.

  “What the hell happened?” Old-timer asked to no one in particular.

  James struggled to speak as he continued to gasp for air. “The nans. The nans are the only thing that could have...liquefied a person like that. You need to get to your homes. This wasn’t an earthquake. You need to get to your homes and see if this...if this hell is happening everywhere.”

  “Oh my God,” said Djanet, as she began to think of her family in Trinidad.

  “Are you saying you think our families might...” Rich began to ask of James, the question too horrific to finish.

  James looked up at him, desperation in his eyes. “I didn’t see anyone out there. I didn’t see a single person other than us.”

  “But how do we find our way home without the Net?” Old-timer asked. “It could tak
e hours.”

  James sat and pondered this for a moment. “Maps,” he said, still gasping. “Follow me.”

  7

  James and his four companions lifted off from his front lawn and ignited their magnetic fields. They raced toward the downtown core of the city, a sickening desperation seeping into each of their hearts as they began to accept that what they were dealing with was not just some scary virtual experience enjoyed late at night with a friend—this was real. Real.

  As the group neared their destination, they slowed their approach, hovering just above the rooftops. There were no people. Usually, downtown flight was controlled by the A.I. One couldn’t enter downtown airspace without inputting their destination into their mind’s eye and giving over control of their flight to the A.I.’s highly organized transportation system. It was the only way to avoid thousands of collisions as millions of people buzzed around the downtown area every day, running errands, participating in meetings, and generally partaking in the great business of the hive. Destinations had to be input like phone numbers, and then the inputee would be guided like a phone signal to wherever he or she desired to go. Tens of thousands of people buzzed around the core every hour of every day. And yet today, there was no one. The sky was empty. James could not help thinking that it was as beautiful as it was horrific.

  When James looked down to the street, he saw where all those Icaruses had gone.

  Red splashes stained the streets as far as the eye could see. Small, robotic street-cleaners were working furiously to wash and scrub the streets clean. It wasn’t litter, coffee or latte spills that the robots were trying to wipe away; it was the inhabitants of the city.

  “Oh no,” James said to himself, the bottom of the world falling away and splashing to the pavement below alongside so many souls.

  When they reached the Vancouver Public Library, James disengaged his magnetic field, and the rest of the team followed suit. Their eyes were wide as they absorbed their surroundings, aghast at the implacable stillness. Vancouver was a massive mausoleum for the dreams and potential of millions of its former inhabitants.

 

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