The Rise of OLMAC

by Kevin Gordon

triggered a search in the cast-net, an automatic response that happened when there was something significant in news reports about a familiar person. Many downloads and virt-lives were brought to Kolob’s attention. They were overwhelming, but after a short while got the sense of it.

  ^I . . . I don’t believe it,^ he cast, in shock.

  ^What is it, Kolob?^ She knew this moment would come eventually, and did her best to feign surprise. ^What happened?^

  Kolob took more time to nest thoroughly to one of the casts, and shared it with Nahlai.

  ^Rhonva’s dead. Killed by Rell?^ he cast, in a daze. ^Why?^

  The report stated there was attempted sabotage in a guidance control center, a familiar occurrence. According to the TELREC, the Rell often tried to blow up this or that building, only to be foiled by TELREC prescience. The report suggested the collapse of the AG platform was related. It stated Rhonva was caught in a blast that killed the saboteurs, and three hundred others.

  ^Damn Rell!^ he slammed, flopping back down on the bed, absently pounding the sheets with his fist. The realization that Rhonva was gone didn’t even fully register with Kolob, and he sat for a while, as that fact sank into his consciousness.

  Nahlai nodded to herself, appreciating the planning of the TELREC. It’s an eternal game with them, point and counterpoint. They know I’m here, and have a clue of what my mission is. Well, I’ve got plenty of tricks for them. She watched him sit, null, his mind racing on things he and Rhonva had done. She carefully sat beside him, and brought him into her arms, as he struggled not to cry.

  ^He . . . he was my only friend. He, understood me, he cared about me. Why?!^

  ^Kolob, I’m so sorry. He seemed like a good man.^

  Kolob pushed her away, staggering over to the window. He felt in a daze, as if a fundamental pillar of his existence had vanished in an instant. I never got to say goodbye to him, never got to tell him how much he meant to me. Nahlai crept over to him, and held him tightly for a moment, her hair falling down on his shoulder.

  ^Kolob, I must leave for work. I hope you stay home—take a roa off. We’ll meet tonight to see my friends. I looked at those reports, and I don’t think they are the true story.^

  ^Oh come on, Nahlai!^ he slammed as he whirled around, anger and sadness boiling on his face and in his mind.

  Nahlai saw, to some surprise, actual anger in Kolob’s eyes. Rhonva was good. He got close to Kolob. It’s a good thing Graid killed him—he could’ve been a real threat.

  ^I’m sorry,^ she cast, backing away from him. ^I know you’re very hurt by his death. Just . . . keep your mind open. I’ll see you tonight.^

  She quickly kissed him on the cheek, and left.

  How could Rhonva leave me? Why did this have to happen? Kolob felt sick, and curled up in a ball on his bed. The first time I finally feel alive, the first time I have actually done something, I have no one to share it with. Kolob thought about everyone else he knew, and the only people he could even think of were those he worked with. Her friends? Her friends?! My only true friend just died, and all she wants to do is tell me how wrong I am. He sat back on his bed, feeling nauseous and dizzy. And she’s all I have left.

  He moaned aloud, rocking back and forth, the feeling of his room being a prison never stronger. For the first time in his life he realized how little was in it; his room, his work, and a few stores he liked to frequent. He went to no clubs, hung out with no friends, had no home filled with a mother and father who loved him and worried about him. I have Inklon, Nahlai, my friends at work. This is the entirety of my life. He wrung his hands, trying to hold back his tears, but all he could see in his mind was Rhonva’s smiling face as he pointed out a pretty girl, or his hand clapping Kolob on his back, as he encouraged him to get out more. I wonder if he left any messages.

  Kolob mentally went to Rhonva’s message bay, looking for a departure message. Most people recorded some kind of farewell, for friends, and relatives, in case something happened.

  There it is.

  An image of Rhonva came into focus, smiling, looking at Kolob.

  ^Well, Kolob, if you’re nesting this, then something has happened to me. Though I know I had many friends, and even more lovers, I want you to know I truly appreciated you as a friend. You gave me honesty—something most Novans have forgotten how to do. I hope you don’t feel too alone, maybe you have even found someone who has an interest in you. Whatever happens, I wish you the best. Trust in the life the TELREC gave you, and live it to the fullest. Hopefully you miss me more than the lleldin, but just in case, here is the location of a large quantity I hid away just in case. I’m sure it will last you quite a long time, long enough for you to find a dependable supplier. In fact, one of my friends, Dhenne, is quite capable. She is discreet, and even attractive.^

  The message shimmered, and the image seemed dimmer, and grainier.

  ^I must cast you something, if this is truly the last thing that you will nest from me, and this message would only be cued if my death were confirmed, and its content is stored on a secret, secure server. It must be brief, for this is encoded very deeply, so no one else will nest these words but you. Trust in yourself, Kolob. I believe in you, and in your abilities. Never let others tell you what to do. You possess great power, my friend, and when the time comes, you must do what is right with it. I only wish I were there to help you. Whatever I have done, I did in the service of our people. But a large part of me regrets some of those things. I know you don’t understand this now, but someroa, you will.^ The image shimmered again, back to its previous quality. ^Goodbye, Kolob, and good luck!^ With a smile, and a flourish, Rhonva’s image disappeared. Kolob rolled over, and let our great heaving sobs for a long time.

  7

  Cloning on Novan fell into disuse after cast-net technology became omnipresent. The only reason for clones was to provide the rich with a living bank of body parts. There were limited experiments with the transference of information from a souman’s brain to a clone’s, but few had faith that one’s ‘self’ could be transferred, no matter how appealing immortality was. With the refinement of the meta, the use of clones in construction and warfare faded. Overpopulation on Novan made the creation of clones impractical. It was only until the creation of the ‘blue pill,’ a pill that could chemically carry instructions, that the TELREC began using clones again. Clones created by the TELREC had minimal mental activity, as their brains were comprised mostly of shielding. They consumed little, existing in a hibernation between missions. They lived off small pills, got their instructions from small pills. Invulnerable to mental assaults, and almost undetectable by mental scans, they were used mostly in covert operations, lying in wait for extended periods of time. The TELREC also created a soldier clone, called a ‘grunt,’ with extreme genetically enhanced strength and endurance, meant to supplement the meta in any confrontation with the Rell.

  ^Where are they?^

  Uld stood in the middle of an abandoned factory, deep in the bowels of Core. He was surrounded by dozens of extremely muscular Grunts. They stood slack-jawed and blank-faced, their whitish skin tinged the color of death, all dressed in loose fitting brown and black clothes with drool oozing from their mouths.

  ^They were here,^ replied Inilc, a TELREC assigned to help Uld. ^By the accounts of the Sentries, they should have been meeting here now.^

  ^Call them out.^

  All was silent for a moment. Then, out of the shadows, emerged fifteen small child-like figures. They were expressionless, like the clones around Uld, all with the same face and body. They moved with an eerie precision, as if their motive responses were governed by an artificial rather than souman mind.

  ^Access their minds.^

  Inilc paused for a moment, growing wearing of taking orders from a civilian. The Monitors cast to him that it would be difficult at times, that Uld was as arrogant as he was necessary, and he had to agree with them now. He turned and focused on the Sentinels, nesting their surveillance reports.

  ^The
y were here, eight droas ago. They should be here now.^

  Uld had been tracking down the remnants of Ksilte’s followers, the Montansc, for the past several roas. The celebrations he threw grew tiresome, and he felt ready for a new challenge. He wanted Ellore, and knew the best way to get her was to capture some of her followers.

  ^Any luck with chronicle traces?^ demanded Uld impatiently.

  ^No. They are being very careful.^

  ^And so am I. Send the Grunts back. And order the Sentinels to proceed to the next target co-ordinates.^

  The Grunts turned, and marched in columns back out a nearby entrance. The Sentinels faded back into the shadows, silently. Inilc sat down nearby, as he had grown tired of Uld, tired of his pathetically open, disgusting mind.

  ^I hope you appreciate all that the TELREC are doing for you, Uld.^

  Uld whirled, then calmed himself, glanced down at the ground for a moment, crushing some glass with the heel of his boot.

  ^I hope you appreciate all that I have done for you,^ he replied, an eerie calm in his thoughts. ^All that I continue doing for you! Denged may have eliminated the Iganinagi, but the Montansc represents the last organized resistance element on Novan. Once they are purged, safety of the Ascension will be guaranteed.^

  ^Suld and OLMAC still factor heavily in that equation.^

  ^And I wish I could help you with that!^ cried