Post-Human 05 - Inhuman (36 page)

“And then Earth will be ours for the taking,” 1 concluded.

Aldous nodded, somewhat regretfully. “It’s not what I want…I loved the world I’d helped create. But I knew we never truly were immortal—that a fuse had been lit—and that this day would come. This is the only way I can save my people.” He leaned forward and spoke with deadly intensity. “And I mean that, 1.
All
of my people must be saved
. If even one person is lost, it will be a tragedy.”

“If you come through in the way you describe,” 1 replied, “that shouldn’t be a problem. There is one problem that I can see with your plan, however.”

“Which is?” Aldous inquired.

“James Keats is not the only superhuman. Craig Emilson has also abandoned his post-human body for one that will be…problematic.”

Old-timer was stunned to be hearing his name come up in dealings of the devils. “He already used his new superhuman powers to assault one of our collective. I’m confident we can neutralize him, but I can’t guarantee—”

Aldous waved her concerns away with his hand, as he launched into further elaboration of his plan. “I’ve already taken Craig’s situation into consideration. Craig Emilson has to be separated from the rest of the post-humans, which is a scenario I can set into motion with a simple conversation. I’ll distract him with a mission that will both guarantee that he won’t be on Earth when the assimilation begins, therefore unable to help his wife, and will also cause James and the A.I. to accelerate their plans to immerse in the test simulation of the Trans-human candidate. As long as you come through with your promise to assimilate everyone on Earth quickly and efficiently, Craig will find himself cut off from his wife, and I can guarantee that he’ll try to find her before she’s awakened in her android form.”

“How can you know that?”

“It’s obvious,” Aldous said, his expression mirroring his words perfectly. “There’s no way that he’d allow his wife to awaken to what he perceives to be torture. He also no longer needs a magnetic field to fly through space, so he’ll be the only person who can pass as an android, and his abilities will make him the only person who could plausibly think he could succeed in such an undertaking.”

1 nodded. “That could work. I could personally lure him into our
Constructor
vessel, surround him with limitless soldiers willing to sacrifice themselves to make sure he’s assimilated, and eventually the numbers will overwhelm him. Is something like that what you were thinking?”

“It’s not much of a sacrifice for the androids,” Aldous replied. “I’ve already worked out that you’re immortals. The androids Craig is sure to terminate in that scenario will be rebuilt and live on, just as the massive waves of attack forces you unleash in your assimilations.

“They’re rescue forces,” 1 corrected, “as I’m sure you now understand.”

Aldous sighed. “I do. However, it may be difficult for my people to understand. The situation requires the abandonment of ethical norms…ethical norms that most people, even the intellectually enhanced post-humans, won’t understand. As a result, it’s imperative that it never be known that
I
aided you in the assimilation. It must be plausible and, therefore, accepted by my people that you, and
you alone
, cleverly inserted a trapdoor into the simulation and cut James and the A.I. off from humanity. You won’t kill them, as would be the smartest move for you strategically, because you’re actually noble.”

“Ah, thank you for taking my public relations into consideration,” 1 replied in a mild jest, leaving what they both knew unsaid: It was Aldous’s public reputation that he was really concerned with.

“The truth is,” Aldous began, having difficulty as he forced out the admission that was the most painful for him, “that I can’t trust my wife. I love her, but she shares the same character deficiencies that hurt James and Craig and make them so easy to manipulate.” He sighed, closing his eyes as he did so, the regret clearly deeply seeded in him. “The irony is that I love her for her goodness. I love her for her honor. I love her for her stubbornness. But…my ethics are too advanced for them.” He lifted his eyelids. “I’ll need an assimilator. I’ll take her the night before it begins. I don’t want her to be afraid. I’ll explain it to her afterward that her memory of the assimilation was wiped. She’ll be spared the worst of it, and never know I had anything to do with it.”

“And you’ll remain a hero in her eyes,” 1 concluded. “All of that is acceptable, but there is one very serious loose end.”

“
The Purists
,” Aldous said, immediately knowing to what 1 was referring.

She smiled. “Very clever, aren’t you?”

Aldous narrowed his eyes. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You’ve met me before, 1. Admit it.”

Her lips formed a sideways smirk. Every move she made was designed to manipulate. The smirk was irresistible. “No. I’ve met Aldous Gibson—Gibsons even—sure, but I’ve never met
you
.” She put her beer down on the table and sat back against the couch, clasping her hands together. “The universes we’ve assimilated are relatively similar, but each one unfolds quite differently. If you’re wondering whether or not you and I have sat down to have this exact conversation, the answer is no. It would amaze you to see how different a person can be from one universe to the next. Events that might seem so simple can have profound impacts on us and forever change, not just how other people think about us, but also how we think about ourselves, and what we think about the world. It’s enough to make you question whether or not there really even is a
self
.”

Aldous’s face screwed up slightly in reaction to 1’s revelation, the notion of the self being in question causing him extreme discomfort; the discomfort bordered on revulsion.

“I’ve met Aldous Gibson before,” she continued, “in many different circumstances, but I’ve never met you. Sure, the others were clever, but this situation is entirely new to both you and I.”

“I’ll have to trust you on that,” Aldous replied, somewhat dubiously.

1 smiled broadly in response. “Yes, yes indeed you will. So, what do you intend to do about the Purists? In keeping with your observations about James Keats, he’s helped them build defenses already that we can’t penetrate, yet are also independent from his control. We can’t move on from this universe until everyone is part of our collective. Not even the Purists, however unlikely it might seem that they’d one day be able to develop an infinity computer, can be left to their own devices. It’s too dangerous. Eventually, people who disagree with Purist norms will be birthed and will have access to the advanced technology James has provided for them. If an intellect similar to James’s were to arise in the future, all of our efforts could be for nothing. We
have
to rescue them from themselves.”

“I’ll handle that part,” Aldous replied.

“How?”

“That’s my business.”

1 shook her head, her amused smile returning. “We have to trust each other, remember? You said so yourself.”

“I trust that if you don’t already have the key to assimilating the Purists, you’ll follow through on your promise to assimilate Craig Emilson. If I give you the Purists up front, there will be no reason for you not to simply kill him instead.”

“Ah,” 1 responded. “You’re exchanging the Purists for your friend.”

Old-timer was aghast as he watched the memory unfold.

“He’s not my friend,” Aldous replied tersely, “but he’s a post-human, and he, like everyone else, is my responsibility.” He leaned forward and repeated his earlier warning, his tone threateningly intense. “I mean it, 1. No one can die.
No one
.”

Her smile remained unflinching as she shrugged. “And no one will,” she said reassuringly. “Are we ready to shake on it?” she asked as she held out her hand.

Aldous stared at her hand, an offer to seal the deal, and he took in a deep breath. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I want to be the first one assimilated...tonight.”

“Tonight?” 1 responded, amused. “I admire your dedication, but it really isn’t necessary. You’ll need to remain a post-human for the time being or else—”

“I’ll be a post-human too,” Aldous interrupted. “I want to be a hybrid. I’ll need an MTF generator so that I can pass for post-human, as well as the ability to access the post-human mind’s eye system, but my plan also requires that I be an android before it begins.”

1’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“You know why,” Aldous replied.

She nodded. “Yes, I do. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Aldous paused for a moment before finally acquiescing. “Fine. I am taking away your ability to renege on our deal. As I see it, there are three things you can use to blackmail me. The first is Craig’s life, which is why I won’t help you gain access to the Purists until he’s delivered to me on Venus as an android. The second is my wife’s life, which is why I want to be the one to assimilate her. I’ll keep her pattern with me until our mission is complete. And the last is my own life. If I’m already assimilated, but in a body of my own specifications, not the least of which is that it’ll be separate from the network you use to hop from person to person in your high-tech demonic possessions, then I’ll be rather difficult to terminate. Is that good enough for you, or would you like to waste more of our time?”

“Oh I didn’t waste our time,” 1 responded, causing a look of concern to cross Aldous’s face. “Getting it on record just gives me a little insurance.”

Aldous’s eyes became quizzical. He didn’t understand what she meant, but as Old-timer watched the replay, he
did
understand. 1 knew that Aldous’s memories might be viewed against his will, and she wanted to make sure Aldous wasn’t in a position to deny anything.

She thrust her hand out once again. “Ready this time? Do we have an agreement?”

Aldous narrowed his eyes before reaching out with his own hand to make their covenant official.

The deal to betray post-humanity had been struck.

14

Old-timer sneered as he looked into the guilty expression of the man whose memories he’d just viewed. “I’d say it was a deal with the devil,” he seethed, “but I’m not sure which one of you is the bigger devil.”

“Get over your pretensions, Craig!” Aldous retorted, his voice scratchy like broken glass as a result of the damage Old-timer and 1 had caused, electronic, garbled pops inundating the words. “You’re smart enough to know better. You have eyes! After everything you’ve seen, everything you now know, you still dare assign condemnation? You still cling to the belief that an infinity computer is a good thing?”

Old-timer grabbed Aldous with his powerful hands, balling the former chief’s shirt in his fists as he pulled Aldous’s face close to his. “You don’t know that Trans-human will be like those other computers. You betrayed everyone based on a hypothesis. A conjecture!”

“That’s right!” Aldous shouted in return, his voice sounding computerized and inhuman. “Trans-human might kill us, and all evidence points to the fact that it will, but I don’t know it for sure. And what you’re too blind to see, even though it’s right in front of you, is that we don’t
have
to place the bet! All we have to do is walk away from the table and we’ll ensure that we’ll live on!”

“Live on?” Old-timer responded, aghast. “As androids? Running for our lives throughout the multiverse? Buying time until the whole thing is eventually destroyed?”

“Perhaps so,” Aldous answered. “But I’d rather live today than die today. With life, there’s still a chance—still hope. With death, there’s nothing.”

“Trans-human might be our chance to change the game!” Djanet shouted, injecting herself into the conflict as she and the others watched Old-timer and Aldous’s shouting match.

Aldous turned to her and shook his head, regretfully. “Trans-human will never be activated...and James and the A.I. are now dead.” He turned to Rich, who stood several meters away, behind the others, still holding the hard drive in his hands. “I would’ve protected them—my goal was always to preserve them! But your insistence on behaving irrationally—like children—has led to their deaths. They will have used that Tesla tower as the signal boost to send their patterns on a course for Earth by now, and 1 and the androids would’ve had no choice but to disrupt them, erasing their patterns forever.”

“What?” Old-timer said, horrified by the pronouncement. “You’d better be wrong, you son-of-a—”

“They died en route,” Aldous responded, his lips twisted in disgust as he relayed news that he, himself, was distraught by. “It didn’t have to be this way…if you’d have just used your damn reason!”

Old-timer dropped Aldous to the dusty surface of Venus and turned, as if in a trance, to 1, who remained in the body of a nearly random android named Jules. “This can’t be true,” he whispered, his voice failing him as he spoke.

The android that housed 1 looked at the figures who surrounded her, each of them scrutinizing her countenance. “It can be true,” she replied.

Old-timer’s eyes welled with tears, and his head dropped, bowing as he fell to his knees, the pain of the loss too much for him to bear. It was, he thought for a moment, the final straw on the back of his sanity.

“But it’s not true,” 1 continued.

Old-timer’s face snapped up in astonishment. “What did you say?”

Aldous’s expression mirrored Old-timer’s as he propped himself up on his elbows, his mouth opening with wordless surprise.

“James and your A.I. live on,” 1 announced. “At this moment, the signal containing their patterns should be arriving on Earth.”