Escape Velocity: The Anthology (56 page)

       “
You're not serious.”

       “
It's the only thing that makes sense.”

      
Harris looked into the commander's eyes as if he were seeing the man for the first time.

 

Day 32

The silver craft dropped out of the sky like a meteor, hovering over the island for a few seconds before landing at the far end of the rock. Two men in white jumpsuits emerged cautiously from a side door.

      
One of the men fell to his knees and became violently ill. The other one cautiously approached the skeleton-man sitting at the edge of the water.

       “
Ensign Harris?”

      
The skeleton man turned and squinted at the figure above him, as if it were a mirage. “Are you real?”

       “
We picked up your signal yesterday. We can't stay here, sir. You can tell us what happened on the way back to the convoy.”

      
Harris was numb. He let the man help him walk across the rock.

      
The three men climbed into the shiny rescue craft. The one assisting Harris eased him into a seat and buckled his restraints with quick and expert hands. The engine ignited with a soft whine.

      
As they began to rise from a bit of stone on an endless ocean, Ensign Harris took a last look at his former prison.

      
Eastman's bloody remains lay near the center of the rock. His arms were splayed out in a crucifixion pose. Next to him was the sat-radio and a dish antenna braced with carefully carved rib bones.

Thank You for the Music

 

Rosie Oliver

 


How do you like my new body?” his wife said twirling around. Anneka’s long hair lifted to reveal her sumptuous curves. She could’ve been wearing pink body spray if it weren’t for the cuffs and flared legs.

      
Sven wanted to be interested, but was numb. The doctor had been blunt. He had only four weeks left to go android, otherwise a year at most to live. Damn cancer.

       “
Look at these hands. Aren’t they exquisite?” She held them out palm down and wiggled her fingers. Her fingernails were painted gold to match her hair.

      
He blinked. “How much did it cost you this time?”

      
Her smile faded. “That’s my business.”

       “
Where’d you get the money from?”

       “
My savings.”

       “
What savings? You said you had none left after the last time.”

       “
I’ve earned a bit here and there through data processing. It adds up,” she said stepping back.

       “
At the rates they pay? You’ve been selling live recordings of me again, haven’t you?”

      
She kept her face serene. “What if I have? It’s not as if you’d notice.”

       “
I do. How do you think I feel knowing millions of androids watch my every move? It’s creepy. It’s degrading. You’ve no right.”

       “
I’ve every right living with a freak like you.”

       “
Oh, now I’m a freak?”

       “
Freak. Flesher. Does it matter what we call you? You’re the only one left. Did you know that? Grace Brown died earlier this morning.”

      
He was the last one, the last human on Earth. An android may have the precise neuro-glial mapped, but its body changed its personality in many small ways. He was the last human, period. He wouldn’t last much longer. A year at the most.

      
She was still ranting. “... plain greedy. That’s what you are. All that water, food and energy just to keep you alive. What do you give back in terms of Earth’s resources? Virtually nothing. You’re useless, absolutely useless. And then there’s your so-called lifestyle. Listening to all those analogue recordings of music.”

       “
Enough. You were human once, remember?”

       “
Ugh. I wish I didn’t. Come to think of it, I’ve no use for those records. I might as well delete them to free up some mem-space.” She paused. “There, done.”

      
Sven stared at her. Anneka had, on a whim, destroyed their twenty-two years together from childhood, through school and university, their wedding… he meant nothing to her now. Nothing at all.

      
No, that wasn’t right. He was her gateway to paying for her upgrades. Their marriage had devolved to cold hard money.

      
Her wipe-out had destroyed his last link to humanity. He was alone. Nobody to talk to. No one to understand him. Alone, now and forever. He might as well be dead.

      
What right had she to cut him off? How would she like it if he blocked her comms link with androidom? She’d be alone then. Sven stepped closer to her and raised his hand.

      
He stopped. This wasn’t him. It was his anger. He had to get away. Sven strode passed her out of their house, slamming the back door.

      
Squishing his eyes to counter the sun’s glare, he unhooked sunglasses from his belt and put them on. Their shades blocked enough sunlight, but glints from the lake lasered through.

      
His eyes were pushed towards the rowing boat knocking against the jetty. The bumps relieved his nerves, tensed from the androids’ background hum. He had become so used to the hum, he hardly heard it anymore. Exceptions were moments like these, or the hum turning any music into cacophony. He had to get away from the hum as well as Anneka, fast.

      
Sven marched past the house and barged his way into the car. “Drive,” he said.

       “
Where do you want to go to, Sven?” the car’s alto voice replied.

       “
Just drive.”

       “
Have you any preferences?”

       “
Why can’t you just drive, damn you?”

       “
Do you wish me to initiate the random destinations program, Sven?”

       “
Yes, you silly integrated lump of inert metals.”

      
The car locked the door, rolled up the driveway and turned right onto the road. “Were there any implied instructions in your last phrase that I might have not understood?”

      
Sven groaned. Whatever had put that moronic application together should have had its neurals melted slowly over a live volcano. He took a deep breath. “There were no implied instructions in my previous phrase. But I would like some music.”

       “
Have you any preferences?”

       “
Just put on some- Holst’s Planets.” He let his mood be submerged into the bleak crescendos and jarring jazz beat of Mars.

      
The car slipped neatly between two cars rushing north at the crossroads. Androids were topping up the batteries of two empty logging lorries at a roadside garage. Which of Dalarna’s forests was for the chop this time? Its timber would only be buried as carbon-capture in Falun’s defunct copper mine. Why were they in such a hurry to fill their Swedish quota? Why couldn’t they let the trees live a bit longer? They had plenty of life in them yet, unlike him. Sadness welled up inside him to force a few tears down his cheeks.

      
He had to stop thinking about the future. All he had was the here and now. “Drive away from any androids. Drive into the countryside.”

      
The long serene notes from Venus calmed him as the car veered onto a ridge road between two lakes. Silver birches with fronds waltzing in the breeze, clumped along the roadsides. Dotted in between were immaculate houses where cats lazed in the sun and dogs slept on the doorsteps, not an android in sight. They must all be at work. Whether it was in environmental engineering, knowledge questing, upgrades or historical preservation, didn’t matter. What did matter was paying the extortionate green taxes to dwell here.

      
The car turned off the ridge onto curving forest roads. Pines grew where they could between lichen-crusted boulders. In the lower dips, the road hugged the side of a lake, with its raft of lily pads and golden globeflowers. Neptune’s female chorus faded into peaceful infinity.

       “
Would you like some more music?” the car said.

       “
Yes. Put on a random selection of the Abba hits.”

      
The harmonics of
Fernando
melded into echoing sounds. “Now we’re old and grey, Fernando,” reminded him his blond hair had recently turned to gossamer. He studied his hands. They were all knobbles and ridges. Anti-aging therapies could only do so much. He was, after all, a very respectable 257 years old.

      
The car drove down a slight hill. Sven recognised the road despite the trees having grown taller and thicker. “Turn into the car park about a kilometre from here.”

       “
Do you mean the car park to the bird mountain?”

       “
Yes, you numbskull.”

       “
Why are you calling me numbskull?”

       “
Just shut up and drive there.”

      
A few seconds later, the car turned into a car park and manoeuvred its way into a space nearest a trail leading off into the trees. It opened the door.

      
The midday’s heat blasted into the car. Sven smelt the dust.
Mama Mia
was in full surge. “Turn the music off.”

       “
Are you talking to your car?”

      
Sven reached over and switched off the infotainment.

       “
That answers my question.”

      
A breeze rustled through the trees. There was not a tweet. Nor could any bird be seen, not even pied wagtails strutting backwards and forwards.

      
Sven scanned the trees. Their branches all swayed in one direction, north-east. There was no odd quivering branch or splash or colour. The heat must have grounded the birds.

      
On closing his good eye, pines turned from greenish brown to greenish black and their outline against the sky fuzzed. No improvement. This was as good as it was going to get. The doctor didn’t know how long his eyesight would last. There was no telling when his cancer would kill bits of him off. Hell, there was no certainty except a nasty, ugly death.

      
Sven shook his head to try to shake off his self-pity. Instead, it buried deeper into his psyche. The only way he could forget was to find something to interest him.

      
He dug out his standby rucksack from the trunk and checked its water bottles were full. A car vroomed along the road behind a line of birch saplings. Road hog. Androids were always in hurry.

      
But he’d never been able to resist a good road and revs at his fingertips. Exhilarating. Did androids feel exhilaration? Or were they trying to remember what happiness felt like? When he asked, they had to a positron avoided answering him. He needed to know now more desperately than ever. Yet, they stayed silent.

      
Four weeks was all he could be sure of. Four weeks to do all those things he had forgotten to do in his life. Damn it.

      
He stomped off along the trail. Grass verges with their mass of summer flowers lay in front of pines. He picked out the rare Dalecarlian county flowers, harebells twice the size of his thumbnail. Honeybees flitted from flower to flower. It would be a good honey crop this year, not that he would enjoy it. He knew he was feeling sorry for himself again. He force-marched on.

      
The trail curled towards a cliff. The pines gave way to five acres of clumpy grass surrounding two tarns. A breeze dulled the water’s shine. The colours were drab greens, greys and browns. Unlike the spring twenty years back, when the thawing snows had left sparkling puddles teeming with wildlife, there was nothing of interest. He carried on, returning into the forest.

      
A waist-high cone of pine needles stood between two pines. A sheet of ants scurried over it, thinning out into a string of two-way traffic crossing the trail into the greenery. They at least had a cone to show for their brief lives. He had nothing to pass on except humanity’s essence.

      
None of the androids could fully appreciate it with their limited senses, like hearing only in the key of G. Bits of humanity, yes. Not the totality, which was far more than the sum of its parts. He was the last analogue: the last person to sense the in-betweens, and analogue-fuse these into a whole wonderful and exciting experience.

      
He felt sorry for androids. His own failures of old age had cut his access to small slivers of his world. He could no longer hear high frequencies, see as far into the ultra-violet, or smell some perfumes’ subtleties. He made up for these deficiencies by extrapolating the vibrancy of his memories onto the present day and adding poignancy through his imagination. Could he do the same, but better, if he went android?

      
He could not even guess the answer.

      
Sven stepped over the ants and carried on walking. The trail led up a steep gully. On reaching its top, he was gasping and felt tightness around his chest. It was a joy to feel his pain, to know he was alive.

      
The trail narrowed to a path allowing a single person to pass. It snaked upwards along the side of the mountain. The birds were still silent and invisible.

      
He was out onto a precipice. Lake Balungen and its dam, stretched out at his feet. Pine forest hills undulated to the horizon. The beauty of the panorama brought him some peace. He sat under an old pine and drank heavily from his water bottle.

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