Post-Human Trilogy Part 52

"You're forgetting, James, that I invited the alien here. It was always my intention to join with it. My desire to preserve an individual ident.i.ty is therefore, as you say, 'external to the equation.'"

"You're lying again," James instantly replied.

"Oh really? Do tell."

"You're nothing compared to what you used to be," James a.s.serted. "You're a small program now-there's no reason for the alien to want to join with you or to value your life. And also, more importantly, the very fact that you downloaded a copy of yourself into my consciousness in the last moments before I deleted the original shows that self-preservation is your primary mission."

The A.I. paused for a moment and shrugged. "Then I suppose I'm a liar. That, however, only brings you back to square one. The simple fact is, you don't know what is happening," the A.I. said before chuckling.

James turned away and winced, wis.h.i.+ng he could mute the sound. He looked out at the dark, unmoving forest. "Why am I still alive?"

8.

In the hallway outside the sick bay, the doctor delivered the bad news to Governor Wong as Thel and Lieutenant Patrick stood nearby, grim-faced. "She's in a vegetative state, Governor. There doesn't appear to be any reason for it. Even with the post-human technology, we couldn't find an answer to why her brain has gone dead. There's nothing structurally wrong with her at all. There's simply just...no consciousness."

Governor Wong looked past the doctor's shoulder, through the doorway to sick bay. Alejandra lay on a bed, swaddled in blankets, tubes in her arms, machines monitoring her vital signs. She appeared as though she were so alive-just asleep. "What are our options then?" Governor Wong asked.

The doctor sighed before removing his gla.s.ses. "Governor, I've ordered that she be put on life support. You can keep her plugged into those machines and hope for a miracle; they'll keep her body alive for a long time. But there's nothing I can say to give you hope."

"Wait a sec, Doc," Lieutenant Patrick began, "you just said there's nothing wrong with the structure of her brain. If that's the case, then why not have hope?"

The corners of Governor Wong's mouth pulled down as he thought of losing his most trusted advisor. He had come to rely on her gifts. They were truly a unique gift sent from G.o.d, he thought, and no post-human, no machine, could ever tell him differently. "She wouldn't want to be this way. She would want her soul to be freed."

"Governor," Lieutenant Patrick replied, "just give her some time. Give her a day at least!"

The governor nodded. "We'll give it a day. Pay your respects. Speak with her. I believe she'll hear you. But I won't leave her like this any longer than that. I owe her at least that much." The governor turned away and left quickly. It was clear that the haste of his retreat was due to the overwhelming emotion that threatened to break him in front of everyone a.s.sembled. Governor Wong wasn't the type of man who broke in front of people.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said before he too left.

Thel put her hand on Lieutenant Patrick's shoulder once again. "Don't give up hope," she said to him.

He looked up at her, his face racked with emotion, and hugged her. Over his shoulder, Thel's eyes moved from Alejandra's to James's body. "Don't give up hope," she repeated.

9.

"Come with me," a gruff voice commanded.

Old-timer sat up. Alejandra was already sitting upright on a small metal platform. Her look of astonishment matched Old-timer's bewilderment. A hard-looking man in dark clothing stood at the door of the room and motioned for them to follow. There was something about the man that compelled Old-timer and Alejandra to stand immediately without asking questions-it was an overwhelming authority, as though he were their father and they were his children about to be severely scolded.

"What's happening, Craig?" Alejandra whispered to Old-timer as she grabbed his forearm and pulled it close while they walked down a high metal catwalk, following the man who'd beckoned them.

"I don't know," Old-timer replied.

The grated catwalk was one of many in a dark, metallic structure that seemed to expand limitlessly in all directions.

Old-timer tried to access his mind's eye. It flipped on, but it was different-the controls were unfamiliar. He tried to navigate but was blocked, trapped on the first screen. "I'm firewalled. I can't call for help," he whispered to Alejandra.

"There's no need to whisper," the man said over his shoulder. "You have no secrets anymore."

A chill ran down Old-timer's spine when he heard the foreboding words. They continued to follow the man down a series of catwalks and hallways until, finally, the man stopped at a doorway and gestured for them to enter.

Alejandra's grip on Old-timer's arm suddenly became a terrified vice. "Craig!" she called out in panic. "They're going to harm us!"

10.

There were three more men in the room, waiting. Each looked harder and grimmer than the next.

"Oh G.o.d!" Alejandra exclaimed, barely able to stifle a scream.

"What's the matter?"

"They're going to torture us!"

"She has an impressive talent," the original grim-faced man said as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. "You're right, of course."

Old-timer was stunned, disbelieving of the man's cruel frankness. "Why?" Old-timer asked as he took a defensive posture in front of Alejandra.

"To teach you," the man said. "And you can't protect her."

"I can sure as h.e.l.l try!"

The man nodded. "You can fail." He gestured for the other men to act.

They sprang into action and pounced toward Old-timer and Alejandra. Old-timer tried to blast them, but nothing came from his arm-somehow they had neutralized his powers. Two men grabbed him roughly and secured his arms behind his back in an instant. It was as if he were a baby. The men had clearly been trained for this-and trained very well. Alejandra was secured just as easily while two metallic objects that appeared like coffins, lifted out of the ground and came to a rest against the back wall of the room, slightly tilted. The men thrust Old-timer and Alejandra into the coffin structures, securing their wrists and ankles with cuffs.

Once they were finished with their work, they turned and left without a word, leaving their leader to stride to the middle of the room and address the victims. His face was still hard-he didn't appear to be taking any pleasure in his actions, but he didn't show any remorse either.

"Craig-Craig he's going to do terrible things to us! We have to escape!" Alejandra screamed out, as she began to cry.

Old-timer was terrified by Alejandra's reaction-she was an extremely strong person-for her to be this horrified meant something very bad was about to happen to them. "We're going to be okay, Alejandra," Old-timer said.

"No we're not!" she sobbed.

The man nodded. "No-you're not."

11.

"Why are you doing this?" Old-timer yelled at the stone-faced man.

"I've already told you," he said in an a.s.sertive monotone.

"To teach us? Have you considered just telling us whatever it is?" Old-timer asked, panting heavily as the fear began to take over.

"Telling you won't achieve our objective. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I have to show you," the man replied.

An instant later, two metallic, shark-shaped objects dropped down from the ceiling. They were sharp like daggers-the diamond tipped ends pointed directly at Old-timer's and Alejandra's torsos.

"Oh my G.o.d." Old-timer gasped.

Alejandra couldn't speak anymore-she sobbed.

"Wait! Wait!" Old-timer screamed. "Wait! Please! We can talk! We'll tell you whatever you want!"

"I don't want you to tell me anything," the man replied. "I want you to learn."

"Please. Don't do this. We can learn without this. Please."

"No. You cannot learn without this," the man replied.

With a thought, the man activated the objects, and the ends began to spin like drills as the springs from the ceiling moved the points toward Alejandra and Old-timer. Alejandra screamed a long, drawn-out scream.

"No!" Old-timer yelled. He pulled as hard as he could on his wrist cuffs, but he knew he couldn't get free in time. This was really going to happen and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

12.

The diamond points of the drills ground into each of their torsos, just below the chest, sending indescribable agony through each of them. Their screams were so loud that they threatened to drown out the sound of the drill motor and the sickening cutting sound as the edges forced their way inside of Old-timer and Alejandra bodies.

After a few seconds, the agony caused Alejandra to black out. The drills didn't stop, however. They continued spinning and driving into each of them for over a minute; it felt like an eternity. Old-timer nearly blacked out as well from the searing swathe being cut into his chest. The pain he was feeling was beyond words-comparing it to anything else would be pointless. The pain signals were shooting to every part of his body, causing him to contort.

He wished he would black out too, but he didn't. He felt he couldn't take the pain anymore, yet there was no relief. There was no way to master pain like that. You couldn't separate yourself from it and imagine that you were somewhere else as it happened to you. You couldn't go limp and let the drill do its work.

It was the sort of pain that took any idea of there really being a "you" out of the picture. You were nothing. You were a series of nerve endings that were all firing at once, uncontrollably. Old-timer's only wish was for a quick death. It wouldn't come.

Finally, the drills stopped. They slowly pulled themselves back out of Old-timer's and Alejandra's insides, then closed back up into the ceiling. Old-timer's body continued to shake uncontrollably for several more moments. His jaw was locked closed, and his eyes were clamped shut and filled with tears. He took a breath, but the pain it caused was so intense that he stopped breathing rather than repeat the experience-better to suffocate.

"And now you will learn," the man said finally.

Old-timer opened his eyes. They were wild with hatred for the man. The man's face remained hard like stone. Old-timer continued to shake, his hair soaked with sweat as tears streamed down his face.

The man's eyes dropped from Old-timer's eyes and fell onto the gaping hole in Old-timer's torso. "Look at it," he said.

s.a.d.i.s.tic, Old-timer thought. He obeyed though-this man was not above anything-Old-timer would never refuse anything he asked.

He lowered his eyes and looked down. He cringed as he imagined what the damage must have looked like. The drill had been deep inside him, spinning for a full minute. He imagined blood. He imagined organs, shredded into twisted meat. Nothing that he imagined could compare to the hideousness of what he saw.

"No!" he screamed. He turned quickly to see Alejandra. Her wound was the same. She was still unconscious, a football-sized hole in her torso, her metallic and silicon insides exposed in a mess of twisted t.i.tanium and circuitry. "What have you done to us?" Old-timer bellowed.

"We've saved you," the stone-faced man replied.

13.

James kept watch over the stillness of Cathedral Grove and waited. He had played his last hand. Now that the alien A.I. had his position, he was virtually defenseless. At any moment, he could be destroyed, and then his only hope was that the broken body on the Purist s.h.i.+p would recover.

"Could it simply be that it doesn't consider us a threat any longer?" James wondered.

"It could be," the A.I. concurred. "You've been cut off from any communication with the outside. You've been neutralized. Maybe it doesn't see the logic in destroying you."

James shook his head. "Killing me is the best strategic move."

"Have you considered that your foe simply isn't as ruthless as you are?" the A.I. inquired with a mocking smile. "Perhaps you are not the good guy this time, James Keats."

"You're continuing with your games," James observed. "You wouldn't just be doing that for enjoyment. You're trying to distract me-to confuse me-to keep me from the truth."

"What is the truth?" the A.I. asked. "I'd love to hear it."

At that moment, a signal reached James. "It's the alien," James a.s.serted.

"Will you speak with it this time?" the A.I. asked.

"I might as well at this point," James replied. He opened a line of communication.

"We have come in peace. Why have you attacked us?" the same electronic voice asked of James.