by Isaac Hooke
Graol began to see the occasional Satori out there, pumping its pear-shaped torso in and out, flagellating its tail, rippling its cilia. Satori couldn't move very fast compared to satoroids and other slave classes, and thus wouldn't stray far from their resting caves. Graol was close to the main settlement, then. The sprawling Satori city of Laranth.
Absent throughout all of that were any of the original seafaring species of Earth. None of the native underwater races existed anymore, of course. The Satori had ensured their extinction in the preemptive strikes of two hundred years ago, which had acidified the oceans, converting the water into an environment more suitable to Satori life. After those strikes the shores were lined with the dead bodies of whales, dolphins, sharks, squids, and the like. Vultures and other scavengers that chose to eat their flesh died, too.
Something nudged the craft and it came to an abrupt halt. Beyond the portal, he saw moorings attach.
A message consisting of squeals and moans was broadcast into his mind.
Welcome home, colonists.
17
Graol floated in a wide coralline cave. At the front, moored in place by fleshy cords, twenty-five unconscious Satori had gathered in a half-circle, their bodies abandoned so that their psyches could link, forming that greatest of Satori evolutionary advantages: the Hivemind.
Joined like that, they became a functional entity more equivalent to an AI in terms of sheer processing power and decision making speed. The Hiveminds were how the ancient Satori had won their civil wars when the species was still in the equivalent of the human industrial age, before the invention of AI. The greatest tacticians and strategists were Hiveminds.
Ordinary Satori could link, too, and in fact often did. The greatest cultural and technological contributions to society had come from linked quadminds, including the invention of space travel.
Graol regarded those motionless bodies with some trepidation. This was the highest tribunal in the ocean: the Royal Hivemind. Governing body, high court, and board of inquiry, all rolled into one. Capable of guiding the entire pod of Satori and delivering deadly judgment. With his three hundred sixty-degree vision, Graol was well aware of the fifty satoroids distributed throughout the cave: the personal guard of the Royal Hivemind, and its on-the-spot executioners.
With Graol were the nine surviving members of the former Council from the mothership, including Thason, Bryce, and Crav. None of the others involved in the human surrogate mission, including Javiol, were present. Presumably they would be judged in turn.
The murky water was lit only by the glow of the algae in the translucent gastric cavities of the Satori present. Tiny particles floated by, waste products from the tens of thousands who dwelled in the underwater cave system beyond.
The Royal Hivemind deigned to transmit its thoughts then.
You have returned empty-handed. The alien colony remains intact on the gas giant's moon. Your surrogate project was a failure. And most damning of all, you lost the primary mothership. The Vargos.
None of the Satori responded.
The Shell of the mothership made a final transmission before detonation. Its internal systems were compromised by a virus of some kind. That was all that was intelligible. Who would do such a thing?
It could only be Javiol, Graol transmitted immediately. He was our greatest programmer. He was the only one of us who had been able to learn enough about the Species 87A computer system to create the virus we inserted into the AI of their ship. Species 87A was what the Satori called humans. Unfortunately, he went mad in the process. I believe he created a virus for the Vargos, too. If you haven't interrogated him yet, you will soon learn how mad he is.
All of the Fifty Surrogates went mad, Thason said slowly. He had been the chief biomimetics officer responsible for creating the baby surrogates they had inserted into the human ship and its dream world in the first place. Even Graol's sanity is questionable. Remotely injecting one's consciousness into an alien body for a short stint of existential pleasure is one thing. But injecting it into a newborn alien, a baby immersed in an alien virtual reality, and then leaving it to live out its life in that reality? Of course they are all insane.
Are you insane, Graol? the Hivemind asked him.
Graol would have laughed, if he was human.
If I was, would I even know it? Graol transmitted. And would I admit to it? Though truthfully, despite the extensive Return therapy I have undergone, I still feel more 87A now than Satori. But I would not betray my race.
Wouldn't you? the Hivemind returned.
He kept his quadmind calm. Maybe in small things, but never to the extent of blowing up my own ship. I couldn't. Not with all my polyp children, and my family aboard.
Tell us of these small things? the Hivemind questioned.
Small betrayals, Graol said. Such as wanting to live the rest of my days in an 87A surrogate.
There was a pause. Do the councilors concur with Graol's assessment regarding Javiol? That he had the skill necessary to create the virus, and the motive to implant it: insanity?
Yes, Bryce transmitted. It is entirely likely that Javiol was responsible for the destruction of the Vargos.
Are there any others who had the necessary skill to create such a virus? the Hivemind asked.
There were only two others aboard with the necessary programming skill, Bryce answered. Fhavolin, head of the council, and Graol himself.
All quadminds seemed to turn on Graol. He shifted his cilia uncomfortably.
The Hivemind spoke again: Tell us what happened to Fhavolin. She who did not return.
We don't know, Crav responded. She was in hibernation like the rest of the council at the time. Perhaps her moorings malfunctioned before the explosion and failed to load her into a life craft.
Graol was very careful to keep his thoughts blank, as he knew the answer to that question very well.
Do you have something to add, Graol?
He cleared his quadmind. No.
He would have to guard his thoughts more carefully.
There is no need for you to guard your thoughts here. You are among friends.
Again he blanked his quadmind. I do not feel comfortable, I suppose, with having my thoughts read. I blame it on all the years I have spent inside an 87A body. But you are right. I am among friends. And I have nothing to hide.
Do you know what happened to Fhavolin, Graol? the Hivemind pressed.
Graol contracted his torso in a sigh. No. She was my mate, once. That is why you detected distress in my quadmind when you mentioned she did not return. Though I suspect Javiol was her mate before he was sent inside the 87A vessel. Perhaps she colluded in some way with Javiol to destroy the Vargos.
Impossible, Bryce said. She would never betray us like that.
Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, Thason said. He always considered her a rival, and still smarted over the fact that she had been elected to head the shipboard council, and not him. It's quite possible that she helped him. In fact, she would have had to, because Javiol would have been embedded within the 87A surrogate at the time the Vargos virus appeared. That could be why she never made it to a life craft. The Vargos AI attempted to defend itself, killing her, but was too late.
Another pause.
Shell, the Hivemind transmitted to the central AI. Update us on the status of the one known as Javiol.
The Return therapy is going well, the Shell answered. I believe he will be able to answer your questions coherently, now.
Graol shuddered when he heard that series of pops and clicks in his mind. It sounded exactly like the AI he had contended with on the Vargos, though he knew it operated from a completely separate and independent core.
Bring in Javiol, the Hivemind instructed the AI.
Two satoroids left the cave. In moments the robots returned, carrying a Satori between them. His tentacles were bound to his torso by fleshy ropes. His tail had been folded up and secured under his lower appendages, preventing him from achieving any loco
motion.
Graol had never beheld Javiol in person before, and was a little surprised by what he saw. His body was small by Satori standards, as if stunted. Even his eyestalks were tiny. Those portions of his tentacles that weren't bound appeared shredded, as if he had struck repeatedly at the insides of his life craft in a futile attempt to escape.
Remove his quadmind cap, the Hivemind said.
That was a device that prevented a Satori from transmitting its thoughts.
One of the satoroids detached the small metallic interference device that had been fastened to Javiol's torso.
Because of the cap, Graol was expecting a stream of incoherent thought to emanate from Javiol, but the Satori remained quiet.
You have learned discipline, Javiol, the Hivemind transmitted.
Javiol answered immediately. I am Javiol 44-57-79-312, egg donor Fhavolin-2-22-65-114, sperm donors Haol-26-36-12-85 and Fallow-92-1002-4-58, mooring B7.
Did you destroy the Vargos, Javiol? the Hivemind asked him.
I am Javiol 44-57-79-312, egg donor...
When he finished, the Hivemind said: Did Fhavolin help you destroy the mothership?
I am Javiol 44-57-79-312, egg donor...
The Hivemind interrupted him. Replace the quadmind cap, Shell.
Before the satoroids could do so, Javiol transmitted again. Is Hoodwink here, among you?
Like Graol, Javiol would have never seen him before. Javiol would not know he was present.
Hold, the Hivemind instructed the satoroids. Speak, Javiol.
I have a message for him: Hoodwink, I'm going to track you down for the rest of my days for what you did to me. I won't sleep until the squirming remains of your body lie flayed before me, your peeled skin tanning in the sun while I ready it for hanging on my mantle. I'll gut—
Replace the quadmind cap, the Hivemind instructed the satoroids.
Javiol's transmissions ended the moment the satoroids reattached the metal object.
Javiol, the Hivemind announced. You are sentenced to death for the crime of high treason. You planted a virus in the AI of the Vargos, thereby causing the destruction of said ship. You are a traitor to your race and a disgrace to all Satori everywhere. Shell, schedule him for execution by The Spike.
I have placed him in the first available opening, the Shell returned. His execution will take place tomorrow with the rising of the thermal currents.
Take him away, the Hivemind commanded.
The satoroids carried Javiol from the cave.
"And so ends Jeremy," Graol thought.
Graol, this Hivemind has determined your innocence in the matter of the destruction of the Vargos.
Thank you, Graol transmitted.
Furthermore, we have decided that a Species-87A surrogate will help you adjust. Several of the surface cities were spared the nuclear armageddon 87A brought upon itself. We already have an extensive collection of surrogates populating these cities. I am sure one of the sub-pods would be happy to have you join their ranks.
Many thanks, Graol responded. That is exactly what I need to complete my healing: to be among other Satori who also inhabit 87A bodies. But... may I ask the Royal Hivemind what it plans to do with the remnants of 87A on Ganymede?
The Hivemind didn't answer immediately. It seemed to be weighing whether or not it wanted to reveal its intentions regarding the human species. Finally: We've let them persist as a barnacle in our side for centuries. It's time to remove that barnacle. When the new mothership is fully operational, it will be dispatched to the gas giant's moon to eliminate them.
Is that wise? Thason sent. You have spent the past two hundred years building the new colony ship. If you send it, and we lose the vessel, it will be a terrible blow. We will be defenseless. We could end up trapped here.
Then we will build another.
Yes, Thason sent. In another two hundred years. I don't have to remind you that we won't be receiving aid from other pods any time soon.
Though this wasn't the only colony or 'pod' of Satori in the galaxy, Thason was right, reinforcements wouldn't be arriving for a long time. The Satori species was spread too thin, its colonies scattered in far-flung corners of the quadrant. There were too few motherships with little incentive to depart a fertile colony. Once a pod found and conquered a suitable planet, the constituent Satori grew lazy, and normally wouldn't heed distress calls from other pods unless they were close to exhausting the resources of the conquered world. Eventually, if the calls continued for many centuries, they would grudgingly build and launch a colony ship, if only to fulfill the religious obligations of their race, which required the complete and utter destruction of all other species.
Satori believed that when they died, their psyches were reborn again into whatever receptacles of consciousness were available: Satori, human, or otherwise. The Satori hated that. They wanted control over the species they returned as, preferring a Satori body—all other races were considered inferior. They actually felt they were doing humanity a favor by wiping them out. With no or few human bodies left, the dead human psyches had a greater chance of reincarnating as 'enlightened' Satori.
When the Ganymede colony was destroyed, that would leave only the few humans who yet remained on Earth itself. Most of them would be completely subservient after two hundred years of alien domination, every man and woman likely passing his or her days in lethargic complacency, waiting to be chosen in the lottery to become a surrogate for a Satori host.
Your fears are unwarranted, the Hivemind told Thason. The latest remote scans of the 87A vessel indicate a ship completely incapable of spaceflight. They are stranded on that moon.
That doesn't mean they won't fire back, Thason insisted.
Our upgraded defenses will easily handle any resistance, the Hivemind sent. It abruptly directed its attention toward Graol, as if remembering that he was still there. Graol, you may go.
He straightened and relaxed his lower appendages twice in rapid succession, the human equivalent of nodding the head, and two of the satoroids escorted him out, leaving the former council members to debate the issue with the Hivemind alone.
18
Hoodwink strode between towering buildings of iron and glass on a street made of asphalt. The front entrances were unlocked, as were the doors on all the floors. He had explored a few of the towering monstrosities. Mostly they contained abandoned offices where people once worked, and on the lower levels, sometimes he found shops. Occasionally one of the shops was manned by a humanoid robot, obviously designed by the humans. One of the robots fitted him with a suit in a clothing store, and in a place called a "grocery store," another robot guided him through the produce section, pointing out all the different kinds of fruits and vegetables that were available to him at no cost. He left with a carrot in one hand and an apple the other. He finished both in short order and was promptly hungry again.
Hunger. An unpleasant feeling he had forgotten about. Satori didn't need to eat: the colonies of algae in their gastric cavities produced light when digested, which allowed for the growth of more algae. Satori could live a thousand years without any external food supply because of it. Too bad his human body wasn't more like that. He might have to talk to a few Satori genetic engineers about augmenting the species.
He walked past the powered flyers and wheeled vehicles that rested against the curb, free for the taking, ready to scoot him to wherever he wished. He wanted to use his own two feet for the moment, just happy that he had legs rather than lower appendages and a tail.
He wore augmented reality glasses, or aReals, designed by the humans. He followed the overhead map that the aReal overlaid upon his vision, and headed toward the main city food generation facility, labeled "food court" on the map. He hoped he would meet other amiable individuals there, because while it felt good to be human again, he couldn't shake the disheartening emptiness he felt. Because other than the few robots, he hadn't encountered a soul since awakening in his new body.
Finally he
saw two people, a man and a woman, walking toward him. They carried "grocery" bags. They kept their gazes averted and stared at the pavement as they neared.
He checked their biometrics on his aReal and confirmed that the bodies were unregistered: these were real human beings, not surrogates. He could hardly contain his excitement as they approached.
"Hello," Hoodwink said.
The pair stopped. "Hello," the man said, keeping his eyes averted. The woman refused to look up, too.
"A fine day, isn't it?" Hoodwink continued awkwardly.
"Yes it is." The man waited, still not looking at him, as if duty required him to remain where he was.
"I'm new to the area, I am," Hoodwink said. "I have no friends. I don't suppose you would be interested?"
"I'm sorry," the man said. "But we do not harbor Satori in our minds, yet. Though we look forward to that day with utmost yearning. Until then, we would not make good friends, I think. May we go?"
"Yes, yes of course," Hoodwink said.
The pair seemed relieved.
He watched them depart, and felt sick to his stomach. One of the humanoid robots observed from a nearby shop. When Hoodwink met its eye, the robot turned around and went back inside.
That's right, Shell. Watch me.
The next few humans he passed behaved similarly. They stopped politely, listened to what he had to say, and excused themselves by telling him how excited they were to one day become Satori puppets, but unfortunately they could not befriend him until then, and if it pleased him, they would like to be on their way. None of them ever met his eye.
Hoodwink didn't have the heart to tell them that if they ever were chosen to become surrogates, their own consciousnesses would be utterly obliterated. Then again, maybe they knew.
At least Hoodwink could rest easy about his own body, as his was one of those the Satori had pre-grown, genetically engineered to have no consciousness of its own. At least that was what the Shell had told him.