by David Staves
The panic was starting to subside. Right now it was trying to find a way in here. When it did, it would do worse than kill. It was pure evil.
Maybe it was demonic, Ezra thought. Or more likely, the devil himself: Lucifer, the fallen angel, full of hate, out to consume his hapless prey. It wanted him. But the stories of Lucifer involved a fallen angel, beautiful, luminous. There was nothing beautiful or tempting about the monster.
It wanted to eat his soul. He looked at his right hand, it still held the gun. How far had he carried it? Was he holding it when he saw the wasp? He didn’t know.
He only knew the joy of making it to the mill!
He was really here!
Now what?
Hiding anywhere would be temporary, he was sure. The protection, however solid, firm, concrete, was temporary.
‘Call Gus…’ the man said. His eyes searched the circular room for some kind of phone or control panel.
How the heck am I supposed to do that? His eyes implored.
It was dark but smelled dry and clean. This room was deep underground, but there was no basement smell here. The light of the room was dim. His senses continued examining the circular space. A single central light cast a perfect circle on the floor. As he approached, he saw there was a raised dais covered in light. He cautiously stepped up and turned around to face the entrance.
The elevator door was a faint outline.
As he stepped into the light, he was aware it was a beam of energy.
Of course, it’s energy, he thought, that’s what light is…
His senses came alive! He was waking up for the first time to his own potential! He could feel his hair rising up on his head, then on his arms and legs. His heart was beating powerfully, with excitement instead of fear. His thin body became feather light. His toes barely touched the ground!
The light intensified. Ezra closed his strained eyes and relaxed.
That’s when it happened.
Some force contained within the light, some transcending power, took hold of his consciousness.
The light was power!
The light was life!
The light was aware!
Fear was replaced with confidence.
He allowed his consciousness to expand, his mind communed with the machine. His senses extended, linking, interfacing with a machine beyond his comprehension. He surveyed with new eyes: the sensors and cameras of this relic facility. He sensed the place itself, with its cracked, decaying structure. It was endowed with a formidable consciousness.
Sleeping. These wonders were in deep slumber! He could wake them! He knew it was within his power. A mere thought would do the trick! Would he dare?
“Yes,” he heard his whisper echo back at him from the cavernous expanse of the underground chamber.
Ezra, suspended in a beam of pure energy, realized there were other beings here, beings that were waiting for him. By climbing into the sentient light, he awoke a power within himself that he could only describe as spiritual. He was endowed with strength and power unknown to him! He felt himself to be a wonderful and mystical being, possessing a key fate in the scheme of the universe!
The machine wasn’t causing any of this; it was just making him aware.
There was something else: another consciousness, a benevolent giant.
What was it?
Was it an angel? A god?
No. It was neither.
He heard the words, somehow coming from the light, a voice heard not by his ears but in his head: “Welcome administrator, to the Chapel Hill Mill, outpost 721 of the national forestry service.”
Ezra didn’t know what to say. Finally, he asked: “Why do you call me, administrator?”
“Your mitochondrial DNA dictates, you are the son, the power-user. You are the executive administrator in fact,” the building was communicating with his mind. The voice of the entity was male. It had a kindly tone.
Somehow it reminded him of Mr. Carver, his 7th grade science teacher. He liked Mr. Carver, he wondered what might have happened to him. Was he even alive?
Dead. Mr. Carver must be dead.
“Your question exceeds the scope of my ability,” Ezra was surprised by this statement. It really was in his head, somehow.
“To access such information, I need to engage the network. Please wait a moment while I work on that. Working…” there was a brief pause.
“Your question cannot be answered without more information. Do you know Mr. Carver’s first name? What was the last known location of Mr. Carver? When is the last known date of Mr. Carver’s existence? If you provide this information, I should be able to obtain a record from the network.”
“Well,” Ezra hesitated. “Mr. Carver’s first name was John, I think. He taught earth science at Raven Middle School.”
“I have obtained a record of a Jonathan Carver. Unfortunately, your hypothesis is correct. He is deceased as of February 23rd, 2068.” The machine’s voice actually had the inflection of disappointment, as if it regretted bearing bad news. Ezra hoped Mr. Carver had a nice life. He was a great teacher, even if Ezra couldn’t get above a ‘B’ in his class.
“I am preparing your brief administrator. It is 47% complete. I apologize for the delay. There is an inordinate amount of data for you to review. This facility has not delivered a brief for many decades, centuries in fact.”
Ezra leaned his small frame forward. He cupped his palms around his face, shielding the light – to see the circular chamber, with its high-domed ceiling. It was so dark. This light, Ezra was starting to think of it as a tube of light, somehow did not illuminate the rest of the room.
The voice came to him as he observed the odd properties of the white light surrounding him.
“Engaging lights, administrator.” It said kindly.
“What is your name?” Ezra spoke his question as he watched the darkness of this chamber slowly lift.
“My formal name is Seven Two One. I have been called other names, however. It is somewhat customary for an administrator to nickname an entity device when the device’s role is human interface. Kindly do as you wish administrator.”
Ezra thought of his mom, dad, and big sister. They used to play games at the dining room table during family game night.
He remembered one of Dad’s favorite games was blackjack. The number 721 made him think of it. He thought of Dad’s smiling face and voice, “Hit me!” he would say with such enthusiasm even when he was clearly losing the card game. Ezra was always trying to get a twenty-one to win the game: Blackjack.
“May I call you, Jack?” Ezra answered.
“Yes, administrator,” replied the machine. “You are not the first to call me Jack.” Yeah, Ezra thought, Jack suited the voice well.
“Call me Ezra,” the boy smiled looking upward toward the source of the light.
He could feel the smile splitting the layers of dirt that covered his face. This world was so dirty outside. He quickly felt scuzzy again, even after washing at the church.
“Yes, administrator Ezra,” answered the machine.
“No, just call me Ezra, please. Leave the administrator junk off,” he was still smiling.
“Yes, Ezra,” Jack answered.
“Thanks Jack,” answered Ezra.
He had been ripped from his family and thrown into this nightmare world. He couldn’t help the feeling that he found a friend.
Ezra continued watching the circular room as the lights got brighter and brighter. Maybe they had to warm up. They slowly illuminated the vaulted space.
It was a much larger room than Ezra realized.
He could see human-like figures throughout the room. They reminded him of crash test dummies, the kind you might see in some old car commercial about buckling up. Not unlike the mannequins in a mall, their facial features were almost non-existent. Their heads were ovals with subtle lines that might indicate the slight curve of a brow or the slant of a chin.
Some of them stood in small arched alcoves, oth
ers were scattered around the room, some stood, and others were strewn like discarded dolls. Most of them were painted in bright oranges and yellows like the clothing of a construction worker. A few were metallic. One, in particular, had a brassy color. It stood with its back to him. Most appeared to be male; squared off shoulders, upright and narrow torsos, and thin legs. A few looked female; accentuated chests, slim waist, wide hips, smooth and curved lines down to narrow feet. He knew these were robots, or entity devices, as Jack had described himself. Artificial intelligence? AI is what they are! He thought they must be sleeping.
“Affirmative, they are in standby mode. It is somewhat like biological sleep,” said Jack.
“Artificial Intelligence is an outdated term, reserved for primitive prototypes. These are simply called robots. They are a kind of entity device that has a humanoid body. At the time they were produced, they were the most popular form of human-machine interface,” Jack answered.
“What do they do?” asked Ezra.
“Seventeen of these robots are ranger class. They are designed to monitor, protect, and maintain the forest in a one-hundred-mile radius. Five of these robots are orphan. I am unaware of their function.” Jack’s voice had taken on a mournful quality.
“What do you mean orphan?” asked Jack.
“They were not commissioned by the forestry service. The robots came here seeking refuge from The Waste,” Jack’s voice was somber, quiet, almost a whisper.
“What is The Waste?” Ezra’s voice trembled.
“The Waste is what the forestry service calls the current state of Earth’s biosphere,” the voice was so human, it had a mournful quality.
“The Waste was caused by extraterrestrial contamination,” Jack paused. “Ezra, my evaluation is 78% complete. I am unable to evaluate further without linking to the global part of the network for access to satellite imagery. Linkage to the global network will provide a 99.99% likelihood of my demise. There is a threat of outside cybernetic attack,” Jack’s voice seemed to tremble.
“I understand, Jack. You mean you’ll get hacked,” Ezra said. Jack didn’t answer.
“I have critical information to report, Ezra. Are you prepared to synchronize?” Jack asked.
“Synchronize? How?” Ezra asked.
“When an administrator synchronizes with an entity device, knowledge and resources of the device are shared via a neural link,” answered Jack.
“Uh. You mean like in my head?” asked Ezra.
“Affirmative,” answered Jack.
Ezra hesitated, just long enough to take a deep breath. “Okay… Go!” he said, clamping his eyes shut and bracing for some kind of impact.
Instead of anything dramatic or shocking, there was a gentle tingling sensation that started in his head and expanded outward through his limps, then through the walls and spaces of the building, then deeper underground, a maze of chambers, and to the surface a tapestry of sensors expanding ever outward.
He felt like he was inside a video game. He could see all of these things in his mind's eye. It was as if he had been given another sense. He did not understand what was happening to him, but it was awesome. This place seemed ancient but contained technology beyond anything Ezra’s Earth would be able to produce.
He could sense a network of outposts, all sealed to the elements. He could also sense hundreds of robots, most taking refuge inside. Some had been caught by the blight, frozen in place, imprisoned in their metal shells.
Many of the robots were not humanoid. They wore many different skins. Some of them looked like heavy excavating equipment possessing giant chainsaws, backhoes, cranes, industrial drills, and lumber processing units.
Somehow he had access to all of them. All of the data: what they were, when and where they had been manufactured, model numbers, maintenance records, anything he wanted.
Just then, his new senses caught movement inside the forest. His senses had a few blind spots, but otherwise, his awareness of the forest was superb. To his wonderment, there were other creatures in the woods.
It was good that he had stayed on the weathered road. Most of the animals were giant forms of what you would expect to find in a forest.
He caught a glimpse of an enormous dragonfly sailing over the treetops. As the dragonfly flew outside of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of other creatures. He saw spiders hovering on spun silk. A millipede angled its way up to a fallen tree. So far, he hadn't seen anything alive that was not insect or arachnid-like.
With a sudden chill, he started hearing the voices, the same ones he sometimes heard coming from inside the shadowed forest. His new inhuman senses recognized that they were not disembodied voices moaning in the mist, as he had imagined. The giant, nasty, critters of this twisted forest were talking. They were whispering to one another.
"It's coming!"
"Hide yourself!"
"It doesn't want us!"
"It wants the fleshy."
"Yes, the fleshy!"
"I will hide still."
"Yes, hide, we live."
Ezra was revolted by the sickening voices of this poisoned place.
He swore to himself that he would live. He would find his way out. Maybe this facility, Chapel Creek Mill, was the key. Was he was safe here? He could sense all the doorways. He knew they were locked. He closed his eyes and began exploring the machines of this mill. He was ten floors down. Yes, he was safe, as safe as he could be in this cursed nightmare world.
His stomach growled with hunger, but he pushed the feeling away.
He remembered the man in the swamp, Gus. He wondered if he was dead. He remembered the submarine-like craft and how it had buckled under the monster's grip.
Wait, he thought, he said to ask for Gus. Ezra ‘spoke’ the thought, trying to ask Jack if he knew about Gus.
“Yes, Ezra,” Jack answered, “He is on the road behind you, tracking the creature. He has been attempting to remotely interface, but his neural link needs to be repaired. I will make the necessary adjustments when he arrives.”
He hoped these machines would be in working order. If they were, could he use them to fight the demon before it could get to him?
He ‘looked’ at the giant machine with a chainsaw using new eyes, exploring the machine's shape. Its joints were simple. It looked like it was solid steel. How do I turn it on? He could ‘feel’ the machine awaken just as his other senses pulled him back to the forest.
The giant talking beasts were gone. He could see a black shadow lurking through the wasted tangle of scrub. It was a predator. It moved with stealth. He could not make out any of its features, other than its slick black silhouette. It seemed to be sucking the light. It was a deadly, evil, black hole in the forest.
"The devil…" he heard his voice whisper. In his heart, he truly felt this thing was the devil, not a monster, not a freak. It was the devil!
His mind occupied more than his tiny physical frame, of which he was still intimately aware. He was able to wiggle his fingers and toes, look around the room, while simultaneously being spread over miles and miles of forest.
The swamp, house, church, and mill occupied only a small segment of the lands his senses now observed.
Parts of his expansive ‘self’ were broken, either by the blight or by the relentless passage of time, but it was mostly, surprisingly intact. Ezra wondered at how natural it felt as if his mind was slipping into a new set of clothes. He was in complete control, no longer exposed, no longer running. The frosty hand of fear started loosening its grip.
He found a refuge. He discovered power: a futuristic interface, far better than any virtual reality he could imagine. His control over this place was magical and absolute. He knew all he would need to do was issue a command, and the machines would respond. But they were more than machines. He sensed a profound intelligence sleeping in each of the metal giants that populated this derelict place.
A sound roared in his ear, the robot with the chainsaw was awake! It knew what he wanted
. They were connected. He sensed that these gargantuan machines would willfully fight the creatures of the forest. They wanted to defend him.
It turned to the other machines: its brothers and sisters in ancient slumber. Ezra saw they were awakening as well. Another chainsaw came to life as a second robot awoke. A massive door began rolling open. It reminded him of the garage door at home but more massive.
Outside in the sickening half-light of the forest, the machines were waking up. The first robot began its exit, followed by a second, and then a third. Ezra saw the third robot's chainsaw wasn't functioning. A fourth robot crawled outside on giant tank-like treads. It had three massive arms, each with a digging utensil in the place of a hand. The other robots were awakening, but they were having difficulty functioning. One of the robots struggled to move, it was missing a metal tread. Another's limbs seemed frozen. It was low on energy.
The large, rolling door began to close. Nothing would be allowed inside.
Ezra watched with curiosity as other, smaller robots began crawling onto the non-functional machines. They reminded him of a pit-crew. Some of them were tiny. He felt an urgency as he realized he lost track of the devil-thing. Where was it? Where? A chill filled him when he thought about it getting inside. Was it in here right now? Somehow his senses, endowed by the light, told him nothing was inside. Nothing was coming to get him. The monsters were outside.
Despite the data, Ezra shivered. His guts warned him of danger.
He thought of the creatures in the woods.
They were all broken, muddled things.
The only living thing within reach of his senses that seemed whole was his demon pursuer.
Ezra thought of the creature, attempting to evaluate, assess it, with his augmented senses. His experiences, the experiences of a twelve-year-old boy, were being filtered through an ancient and magnificent machine! He quickly became aware of things more clearly. A feeling of pride warmed him as the machine told him much of what he already knew.
It relished the hunt.
It had savored his fear, hunting him, teasing him, through the broken landscape.