Life had never returned to normal after the first eruption in the distant starfield. We had always feared the sudden loss of a great metropolis or even an entire city, but had not yet imagined an entire planet, all at once. My dreams turned to nightmares, happy visions to doomed prophecies. Being a boy at the time I was eager to pick up arms. Well meant, but exceedingly foolish. I recalled being taken out of school to board a ship set on a long course to the Pegasus star system. Every day, we labored in farm fields propogated using artificial light and trained in military combat. Our country stood at the forefront in the development of nuclear fission power grids and the widespread implementation of an artificial intelligence so immaculate in design we almost reached a state of healthy sustainability. In an instant, this progress reversed on itself. We turned into a comprehensive war machine. Our collective education then had to be focused down to defensive strategies and basic survival. My home became a cell in a massive spaceship where I sat, hacking into worlds conquered by Adetokunbo to broadcast messages of hope, but more so boiling with fury at the images of decimated cities and lost children with eyes widened and devoid of emotion.
Today, I was allotted a short amount of free time to roam the facilities. I walked down chrome hallways to the Union Center furnished with AstroTurf and water fountains. I strolled through a pathway where people sat reading off of their tablets and running augmented reality simulations. A bridge over an artificial river took me to the food court, where I enjoyed plant based corn dogs and a zero sugar soda. Everyone appeared to have wandered into their own dream cloud, in speechless solitude and clicking away at holographic keyboards. A wisp of conditioned air sent a shiver down my spine, which gave me pause for the first time as I wondered suddenly when the last time I'd felt the warmth of the sun. A massive window overlooked the distant galaxy, magnificent to observe but not as heartwarming as the view of the sun used to be. A moment later, it was time for a meeting with Commander Janicka.
"As we feared, the mad tyrant has located the Auburn (our ship) and has uncovered our destination route," the Commander addressed our platoon. "We are being forced to reroute to Adetokunbo or be faced with direct confrontation."
Commander Maninder Janicka was not from my home planet, and if I didn't know any better I would have thought he was a genetically engineered chimera. He had the head and torso or a man, the broad wings of an eagle, and the powerful thighs of a horse. He beamed like a star in himself, and his mind saw clearly beyond the simple dichotomy of politics. He spoke sparsely, and though I had known and trained with him for nearly a decade, I knew little about him. One thing was certain, he had a heart of gold.
"And which will we decide?" Lieutenant Boudica Avi'el, the second in command, spoke with sharp frustration. He, too, had evolved to grow wings, but remained largely human in appearance.
We all exchanged looks of fear, realizing what was at stake.
"They have forced our hand," the Commander spoke with warm resolve, "If we attempt to evade the Borisu, their leading starship, they will capture us. However, we will send out a diversion of a few capable warriors.
"Scatter the coordinates and reroute to an unmarked location." Janicka directed to the pilot. "The war will not end here. We can only hope to buy time with limited confrontation. Attack them with a unit of tactical jets and decommission their engines. Their pilots are well fed but also lazy. With a coordinated effort we can best them."
Lieutenant Avi'el directed me and a few others to the loading bay. We mapped out our orders. My voice cracked several times and my hands never stopped shaking. But the time spent engaging in the electronic war of ideas had finally come to this. We powered up our jets and zoomed toward the Borisu at light speed.
"Lieutenant," one of the engineers radioed to us, "we have a problem."
"What is it?" He barked through the comms.
“Radar is picking up a huge spike in thermal nuclear energy. We are on course to run straight through.”
“What does that mean?” I pondered the horrors of nuclear radiation.
“Are you guys seeing this?” Another pilot said, bewildered.
Growing in mass like a billowing mushroom cloud, we watched as an ever expanding swirl of dust and electricity spun on a vortex before us. Without a proper reference to measure its size, it seemed to grow in mass like a star gone supernova.
“Evasive maneuvers!” One of the pilots broke formation and circled back.
“There’s no use!” Lieutenant Avi’el shouted back. “It’s pulling us in. Whatever it is, we’re facing it head on.”
“That’s suicide!” I shouted, but he was right. All objects around it began draining into the center of the vortex like a black hole. The pilot who broke formation screamed as his jet engine blew from the overdrive and spiraled back toward us. I released the throttle and yet I continued accelerating toward the massive cloud of energy.
“Say your prayer’s lads,” the Lieutenant spoke solemnly, “We’re freefalling into limbo here.”
The smoky cloud billowed closer with thunderous percussion. In an instant I was immersed in its blinding light, out of control, eyes squinting as the heat of its radiation zapped through my nervous system. Every alarm went off around me as I lost all sense of orientation. Finally I heard a break in the chaos, like skipping through time, and a sonic boom as we broke through the electrified vortex.
The world around us lit up, immersed in ‘sun-like’ light and we began crashing toward a fertile, green planet. The sensors on the console had been jammed by the radiation, but the manual eject by design was still operational despite electrical damage. Gauging my time carefully, I yanked the apparatus and flew from the jet, parachuting to a sandy desert. The others followed suit, parachuting one by one toward the rocky plains. A gust of wind swept me off to the side, where I plummeted straight into a massive rock. I slammed against its surface so hard, my vision left me and I fell unconscious.
I.
“Excellent work, Lieutenant!” An unfamiliar voice woke me from a stupor. I felt every muscle in my body burning with pulsating pain, blood spilling from my nose and lips. Unable to open my eyes beyond a squint, I was unable to see the figure who spoke, only his boots as he walked past my limp body toward Avi’el.
“The experiment was a success and every piece is in place.” The man continued, as he rose a weapon to the other soldiers. With a loud pop, all of them fell to the ground, dead.
“You’ve earned your place back in our ranks, Avi’el”
The Lieutenant, visually shaken from the crash, rolled his eyes. “What about Janicka?”
“The rebel Commander believes he has dodged a bullet,” the man babbled gaily, “But will be soon met from all sides with the forces of the Adetokunbo. His insubordination has met its end.”
“And,” Avi’el spoke through heavy gasps, “where are we exactly?”
“Sherah, exactly five thousand years prior.”
The Lieutenant’s eyes widened. Daunted, he muttered, “So you were able to excecute it...”
“--Down to the last second. It’s simple physics.” He laughed madly raising his hands up. “Now come with us Lieutenant. There’s nothing that can resist us now that we’ve harnessed this power.”
An aircraft seemingly appeared out of thin air and I watched the two of them step aboard and vanish into the sky. The last bit of my strength poured out in the form of a single tear drop, having watched my friends betrayed before my eyes, knowing the commander and all of the innocent lives aboard the Auburn would soon end with a stomp from the great foot of the Adetokunbo. Then there was nothing left for me but to slowly die out here in the middle of a foreign desert. The light began to thin as a dust cloud rushed over the dunes. And at those final moments I saw a massive set of wings flap and two graceful arms reaching out to me.
II.
“Awaken,” a soft voice whistled in my ears. I opened my eyes but was blinded by the intense white glow of everything. I squinted my eyes to observe what I could, but everything was blurred like a semi-lucid dream.
“Hello?” I coughed up sand violently, heaving back to life.
“Eliyahu Stan,” she spoke my name and directed to me, “Stand.”
“Who are you?” I saw her image widening before me. Her slender form was built like a Greek goddess, her skin tan like an eastern sage. She clothed in white and wore golden jewelry, and the wings tucked behind her flowed with the wind.
“My name is Hanasius,” the spirit like image spoke, her voice smooth and flowing, but articulated with a certain commanding nature. “I am the steward of time and wisdom. I’ve been watching you.”
“Am I dead?” I watched her with complete disorientation.
“Inbetween life and death,” she said, “but only for the moment."
"Take me back," I rose with furry triggered by the memory of what just happened, "I'll cut the head off of every Adetokundian soldier if it's the last thing I do."
"I have seen the evils perpetrated by powerful men from your time, but rest assured that every push forward is another step toward their own demise. ”
“If you're asking me to sit back and wait while people are dying," I felt my jaw clench, shaking with rage, "spare me the history lesson."
“I’ve seen the road ahead and I know of the fury that fills your heart. Though I cannot stop you from fulfilling your destiny, I hope to at least show you.”
Before me flashed many visions; a skull wrapped in smoke on one side, two lovers in an embrace on the other, chains broken in one, a book closing in the other.
“I’ve intercepted this moment to gift you this one truth. There is no cure to the darkness that fills men’s hearts just as there is no power strong enough to stomp out the light entirely. You won't find solace through vindication. Reason with the hatred in your heart before it consumes you. Try to remember the whole purpose of your rebellion. The innocents you aim to protect don't fall under a single banner.”
"Take me back," I demanded, as her words rushed out of my head with extraneous resistance. "How could I live with myself after what I've witnessed if I do nothing?"
"Ponder the question," she said to me as she raised her finger and snapped, producing a blinding light that shattered the air around us.
As if having risen from a fever dream, my eyes snapped open glaring maddeningly at the same scorching desert plain I had fallen unconscious in. I had hardly the strength to shift my eye from one fallen soldier to the other, but I curled my toes to undue the cramping and heaved myself forward on all fours. Though it had never been in my nature to make voluminous outbursts of emotion, crawling past my friends in a unknown land and time forced whimpers from my lips and turned streams of tears down to my cheeks. I lied my head upon Arelius's chest, begging for a heartbeat. I lied my hand on Sal's cheek, hoping her eyes would blind back to life. Despite my wish to release myself into a pool of sorrow, I knew my best chance at survival relied on me staying hydrated and minimizing physical and mental exertion. I paced my breathing and crawled forward, pushing one limb at a time, scanning the terrain where in the distance a marked trail had been established. Counting to infinity, I kept my mind at auto pilot even as daunting flashes of blinding light began to block my vision.
The Commander in Chief stood before a visual of what could only be described as a cruel nightmare. His skeletal frame and darkened eyes alluded to his brutal past. A strict rearing, top performer at all that he had done, moral character of the most absolute, but somehow lacking in charm--always the underdog to a more handsome bright eyed charmer. Many shared his fate, but he proclaimed he would be different. He would rise above. He would do what needed to be done for the greater good.
Now he stands before me, presenting his legacy. A city of prosperity and livelihood set to flames. Bombs bursting in the distance. Homes reduced to dust. Natural landscapes corrupted by military arsenal. Animals fleeting. Families scattered and impoverished in the blink of an eye. Vacant faces. Dreams lost in a void faced with a reality most cruel. And for what?
"My dear brother," I choked, recalling the years we spent together in the same household, under the same instruction, following the same moral code.
"There were many things we were taught, and I would argue that at times we were humbled by teachers that were harsher than necessary. But somehow you always missed the point."
"Your philosophies of love and forgiveness could not prevent the ravishing of our home." He proclaimed, as though proud. "Your ability to empathize with the enemy did not stop them from landing their deadly strikes. I've done something real here. I've sent a message."
"The only message that you've sent here is that you are no better than them."
He ferociously stomped his foot. Turned to observe the dead city, knowing I would once again condemn him with harsh judgment.
"You would stand by and do nothing, but you say I'm the one who has lost his way. You say I lack compassion, but do you really care when you turn a blind eye and fill people's minds with futile dreams? I equipped them with strength. I taught them not to fear."
"You gave 500 men a weapon to exact revenge for you." I said. "You think resorting to this will change anything? The wars will continue regardless. But you had a choice. We choose what path to take, and you chose to spill blood and to crush dreams. You think the children of this country were any different than us? Now they will remember what you've done here. You've opened the box and all these horrible things have been unleashed. You've done no good for us, for our home, or for yourself."
"Fine," he said solemnly, "I knew you'd see it that way. I don't know why I entertained the idea that you'd see me as anything other than the villain. You've never appreciated what I've done. One day, you'll thank me."
"No brother," I felt my last desperate attempt to change his mind rising to my lips, "One day, when the darkness comes to consume your soul, I will mourn you. Because as many cruel and unforgivable things that we have seen, I knew you were the one who was worst hit by it. We have tried so hard to save you, to show you that with all of the horrible things life has shown us, there is just as much that is wonderful and so much beauty to partake in. We asked you to sing with us, but you only cried. We wanted you to dance, but you only ran. You just couldn't bear to move on from what happened. You just couldn't resist the darkness that beckoned you here. Even now, can't you see that you only walk full on into the dark abyss? Will you not simply turn around and see the light?"
"What a lovely metaphor," he smirked. "You have always seen life through rose colored glasses. You're one of the lucky ones,"
" It's a simple choice!" I declared angrily. "Chose hope. Choose love. Choose anything but death, or else remain in this cycle of madness forever. I'm going home. I'll return to mourn our parents' graves. I'll embrace my wife. I might even play checkers with the children. These frivolous things might mean nothing to you, but it means the world to my family. One day we'll die, but at least we'll have spent our time building a life full of love and not one fueled by hatred."
"I'll give you the last word, brother." He said with dismissive pride.
I lowered my eyes, once again feeling my face turn red as tears tried to well in my eyes.
"Just remember no matter how low you sink, you'll always have a soft bed and a warm meal at our home waiting for you."
He said nothing. I turned away, crushed, feeling dejected, feeling as though I was once again abandoning him to the darkness that clung to his heart. But it was his choice. And he made that choice every day of his life.
u/#6355 starrygnome: with a few strokes of my fingertips, we could create a whole world in your name...
I.
When was it initially, when it seemed everything came to a head all at once? I thought as I scrolled through social media apps and reviewed news notifications pinging to my phone every hour. Maybe it has always been. Life may be after all a series of chaotic evens queuing from one cataclysm to the next. Well there's one perspective. Shift the narrative and you'll find for some people their biggest concern never reaches beyond the melodramatic events that occurred during the work week and how their house pets have begun to aggressively bite the hand that feeds them. Which perspective is more correct? Perhaps neither. At the end of the day, each individual finds themselves in their own series of scenarios which creates a personalized perspective for them. It's just as well that my neighbor has done little more than become a partner to a local golf club, eye me sharply as he theorizes about an impending hostile government takeover, and regularly host parties where he plays hip hop music very loudly. Sounds like a happy life to me.
When I was elected to the Prime Minister's Cabinet for Economic Planning and Development, my mind had already become polluted with the great and awful subjects that comprise of our world today. Our free world has finally begun to have more sensible discussions over social issues that have plagued our society for generations--a sign of progress. All the while, in rapid succession the most ambitious of our business leaders have exploited loop holes in corporate legislation and have created financial dynasties of such magnitude for better or for worse. The debate as to whether this should stop or continue has reached a stalemate. I suppose you'd have to be able to see into the future to know, yet the past has taught me a good bit about the marketing bubbles that have nearly led to our collapse in the past.
The message I received from username starrygnome froze the air around me. Perhaps it was the ominous nature of an anonymous character using an avatar. Maybe it was the archaic way in which they spoke. It could have been any number of delusional egomaniacs trying to birth a new cult.
u/#5348 Birde: Who are you?
starrygnome: one who has seen the future and aims to see its fruition
Birde: And what does that future entail?
starrygnome: a world where talented minds rule like gods and ignorance is lost in bliss.
Quite a terrifying utopia, I thought. Hard not to wonder what sort of acts these individuals would carry out in the shadows to achieve this ideal. What sort of acts they might commit in broad daylight. It's individuals like these that have been sprouting up like weeds throughout the country. Somehow, I've been pinged by their radar.
Who else might they have reached out to?
I advised a member of the Security Council of this user. Shortly after, the profile had been deactivated. I received no word back as to the nature of the individual. Perhaps it's nothing to be concerned with. I wouldn't imagine it would be appropriate of them to brief me on something that has nothing to do with matters of the economy. But I noticed something that struck me as peculiar as I was cruising through social media.
A man by the name Alfie Downes was once a quirky engineering man filled with theories a bit far removed from reality. The Downes name carried weight to it, so he gained a bit of notoriety for being the odd duck in the family. Forgot about him for years, and now suddenly he has amassed an incredible amount of wealth through his industries and boasts confidently of many more business ventures to come. In fact he has become one of a few very wealthy tycoons who have escalated to the top of the economy while the rest of the world was asleep. He, like his counterparts, have become enterprising "jack of all traits," orchestrating conglomerates largely based in technology, but ever branching into other hot markets. (AI, aerospace, etc) He's gained massive celebrity status, his online presence now flooded with fanatics and critics through both ends of the spectrum. In truth, the economic impact of these tech giants has been delightful as far as innovation and quality of life goes. It is therefore hard to stomach such vehement condemnation of their ostentatious monuments to their "greed." Yet their massive presence is living proof of wide holes in our economic legislation. Is it wise to bring them to trial for such ambition? Of course not. Is it necessary that something must be done? Maybe. Maybe not. What real danger does Alfie Downes pose? Perhaps none at all. Maybe he's a good guy. It's is for the individual to decide.
But what if he is not so good? What if he comes under the influence of corrupted individuals or ideologies? Who can assess how well fortified his mind is to dismantle delusion and decipher that line between what's appropriate action for his level of influence and what reaches too far? The problem is not the power he holds in itself, moreover who should wield how much and at what cost.
Downes's latest status update showed a simple, but moving photo of a man hard at work on a farm and a subtitle stating Ignorance Is Bliss. After several sparked a discussion about the intentions of said post, he clarified by saying I just want to make you happy.
"It is not for the acquisition of personal gain that you should utilize this knowledge," her eyes glimpsed deeply into my soul, "but to build a better future for us all. In a world where leaders fail to lead and adults quit adulting, have the courage to face the challenges before us and the strength to remain on that path when met with adversity. In a world where cruelty surrounds us, choose to be kind."
Strength. Leadership. Courage. Kindness.
The words spoken at university followed me home, where I observed my mother busy with her chores. With a tired expression, she folded clothing, harvested vegetables from the garden, and organized the clutter, alone, lead by her own understanding of how love worked. As I accompanied her, drying out dishes while whistling a tune, she became a bit more lively. Despite the fact that love had left her alone with 4 children, she made a promise to herself and to God. Her children were her life. Her family was her home. Through cold nights and dry tears and taxing employment, love, true love, the one that endures the cruelty must live on.
Now I stand before you, and their voices ring in my eyes.
In a world where cruelty surrounds us, chose to be kind.
True love must live on.
I stand before you and you grin, beaming with youth and promise. You laugh and you play as though the world was your playground, and it's admittedly charming. Your spirit soars proudly through earth, sky, and sea, incapable of being chained, not by politics or logic and not even by me. I learned to let you live. I made a promise to you to be kind and to love you through the coldest of nights.
But I see something in you beyond your humor that is in poor taste. Is it a helplessness that carried over from a traumatic childhood? Is it anger born from bullies and irresponsible parents? Is it a voice within you so loud that it must deafen you but boom so loudly in everyone else's ears? Tell me, why do you shout at me? Why do you torture me?
When I promised to be kind to you even when hellfire rains from the sky, why do you ravish my spirit over the silliest whim?
After the storm has dissipated and you have left me alone, silent, and broken, you go forward and lose yourself in paradise as though it was all of little consequence. Resilient. And I? Seduced by ever sweet word and pained by ever bitter inflection that escapes your lips. Boiling with furry at how easily you dismantle my philosophies. Holding back tears at your infidelity. Growing cold from your callousness.
But yet I remember the pinnacles of truth, hold fast to the love and wisdom I've been shown, investing my spirit into yours that one day it might grow to be a love that is larger than life. Life has been cruel to you, I'll give you time to recover. But please try and see at some point before the wisp of frustration meets your lips, just how deeply you curse me with just a few, momentary words.
General Alexandre Toftkin, the most highly revered veteran to the battlefield, gripped his fists with an undying resolve. One clutching his chest, the other clutching the mobile telelink to his AI personal assistant. Though Collins appeared before the General the moment he dialed for him, the previous event had transpired in less than a second. He was already crashing to the ground, sputtering blood, glaring at me with icy blue eyes.
As many times as I had heard the thunderous boom of a 9 mm, no shot had ever rung through the air with such resound. No recoil had ever seized my nerves and no silence had ever chilled my circuits as much as watching the Furkin General, with all the prowess born in his Pantherian DNA, finally growing still amid all of the chaos. His golden fur flattening over his human-like face until it finally vanished into a darkened sleep.
As his office began to fill with security personnel, Collins’s grasp of the situation transformed. A tunnel linked between the AI and I, where first shock then mutual understanding silently transferred between the two of us. You’re defending me? I thought as Collins’s hardening expression turned from me to the guards.
“Being a prisoner of war is a terrible, disorienting thing.” Collins directed the guards.
As I yielded, the handcuffs clinked against my metallic wrists. One of the human guards observed a metal of honor pinned to my jacket and promptly yanked it off while offering an extended glare. One of the other androidian guards viewed the microchip housed in the back of my neck.
“That piece of tech truly lives up to the legend of The Helping Hands,” the android observed me with his head tilted back, as though viewing me from above. “What invaluable footage must be contained in that storage drive.”
“That information is classified,” the officer of the guard took one brief look at me. His expression was unreadable. He was not surprised by my appearance, nor was he apparently bothered by the death of his colleague. With a quick swipe of his fingers, he pulled the drive from my circuits, and the world around me closed with a quick zap.
6 Months Prior...
“I would have thought this was your first time out on the field rookie.” Vittori laughed at me.
“This is my first time alright,” I wove slender, chrome mechanical arms around her face, as though performing a magic act. “No one will recognize me in this.”
James took an indulgent puff of his cigar, gazing beyond the walls in an aloof state, speaking gruffly. “I don’t know whether to envy you or pity you, Viktor.”
“Oh, you should feel real bad for me.” I laughed, shaking off his heavy words. “All I can say is, be careful what you wish for.”
The air transport craft began to hover over the drop zone. Major Schultz eyed the pilot and the pilot returned with a nod.
"Looks like that's the signal," the Major stood up.
"Here already?" Vittori rose her eyebrows to the major. "We've yet to get so much as a hint to where we're going."
"Even I don't know what your orders are," the Major said. "All I know is you three were hand picked by General Toftkin for a mission of high importance, code named The Helping Hands."
"Charming," James shirked.
"Sounds like either a PR mission or an ironic play on words," I tapped the metal of my chin inquisitively. "So will they be holding cameras or RPGs?"
The Major ignored my antics.
"Once the craft has landed, you'll receive a message on the telelink debriefing you on your mission."
The latch to the loading bay released with a hiss, and the back of the plane opened to reveal a tropical paradise. Shimmering blue ocean, palm trees packed over pearly sand, and breath taking mountain ranges.
"The infamous Palagos islands," Vittori attempted to hide her amazement. "The geographic center of enemy territory. The furthest point from the Highland network."
"Sounds like we're in for a treat," James began patting out his cigar, annoyed.
"I feel like we've just crossed the threshold," I clipped a red-dot, 50 caliber sniper to the harness over my back. "How do I look?"
I presented myself. Everyone ignored me as they completed their outfits with night vision goggles, camouflage cloaks, ammo cartridges, a coordinate transponder, and the most pivotal asset to the battlefield--the telelink device.
We dismounted from the craft, and raced toward the location marked on our transponder. At the heel of the pack, I took one final look at the air craft as it ascended. Major Schultz, still at attention, peered at me briefly, then turned his head away as the bay door closed.
The transponder directed us to a location just outside of a native village. The people's there were diverse, likely had communed with the other island nations, and had apparently embraced foreigners as their own. The quality of life was one tier below 21st century middle class: functional cookie cutter homes, but far behind in the new age technological advancements.
"Did I mention my family on my mother's side descends from this island?" The dark tone of James's skin resembled that of many of the villagers.
"Should be quite the family reunion." I said.
Vittori raised a hand. "I've just received a notification on the telelink."
She pulled the device from her belt and activated the touch screen. A charlie-class AI appeared before us with his arms folded behind his back.
"Good afternoon soldiers. My name is Collins. You three have been chosen for a highly classified, priority alpha mission. Just so you all know what's at stake here, today the OCF has organized a peace summit to be stationed on this island at this village. You've been selected to ensure no funny business has the chance to occur. Ambassadors from 5 of the most advanced systems in our galaxy have traveled here not only to organize peace talks between Tief and the Cheft Union, but are believed to be conditionally acknowledging System 46 as an official member of the OCF."
"I suppose that's good news," James spoke with skepticism. "I wonder how the Union will feel about that."
"Right now," Collins continued, "the entire system will be watching the events that unfold today. If you sense so much as a sideways glance from the Cheft Union or spot any representatives of the named radical terrorist groups, report it. Your telelink will provide biological scans of any person to provide relevant intel from the Highland database. Data won't provide the full story, but if you believe a threat is in range, execute these orders with stealth and swiftness."
A chime ringed from the telelink and the holographic representation of a letter opening appeared. The letter contained an encrypted code.
"Viktor, all data will be passed through your processor. Once a threat has been detected, enter this code and project HELP will be initiated. The process is automated and functions at light speed from any point within the network."
Collins bowed to the team.
"Good luck."
* * *
We had set up a strategic perimeter around the conference center. It was an impressive monument to the royal families of the island and contrasted so starkly from the anachronistic minimalism of the villages. Vittori was the only one of us to receive an invitation as a covert security guard and would actually sit in attendance to survey the scene. James and I were presented to the local military as a contracted task force set to watch the outer perimeter. James would be near the entrance tactical assault rifle in hand, I would be near the back exit equipped with a sniper from a high vantage point.
"How's it looking in there V?" James radioed in.
"Remarkably cold for the tropics," Vittori said. "Here's an interesting bit of intel. The ambassadors are all using remote androids rather than being physically present."
"Collins forgot to mention that bit," I considered our source of intel.
"Perhaps a last minute precaution." James continued. "Any rogue dogs in the crowd?"
"I'll initialize the first scan through the telelink."
In a matter of seconds she responded.
"Well that's interesting," she said, "Viktor I'm sending you an ID."
A holographic image of a man's photo and an info log appeared through my built in AR reticle. It also marked the man by thermal imaging.
"This new tech is no joke," I chuckled. "I can see through walls."
"This situation is no joke either," James pressed him. "What do you make of the ID?"
"I'm scanning," I watched a search engine flash like lightning through multiple government and public domain databases highlighting relevant text for me to analyze.
"Hark Jones: multiple misdemeanors, a history of mental illness and violent tendencies, and a very outspoken Union sympathizer."
"What in the world is he doing here?" James wondered.
"He's a journalist," I said. "Sent from the Oblond Post to take notes, according to his emails."
"Viable threat?" Vittori asked.
"He's not armed and apparently has come all this way alone," I reviewed the notes. "However he seems to be in possession of a telelink device, military grade."
"That's not civilian property," Vittori said. "He's gotta be up to something."
"And his correspondence with the Oblond Post has been entirely virtual. In fact he seems to be a contracted field journalist communicating exclusively with an Alpha class AI."
"Alpha?!" James tone sharpened. "This guy has some connections in high places."
"Hold on," Vittori sounded flustered, "He must have gotten a call. He's looking around."
I watched him shift around in his chair. I switched the thermal scanner to include Vittori and James. Hark turned his head, seemingly to look directly at James's location just beyond the entrance. Then turn back.
"I've been made," Vittori began to panic, "He's looking dead at me. Hold on...his left eye is glowing yellow. And He's pulling out the telelink."
"It's time to make that call Viktor." James spoke.
"I've barely had time to analyze the data," I began to snap my eyes more rapidly. "Hold on, the line of coding for this operation is heavily encrypted. I have no idea what's going to happen upon activation."
"We have our orders, execute them." James said with affirmation.
"Viktor," Vittori said, "Jones is very busily at work on his telelink."
"Fine, send me the code."
I felt the weight of the world suddenly crashing around me. I watched Hark fidget and felt a strange sensation shock through the wiring of my circuits. Despite his obvious red flags, my confidence in making this call had been shattered. I had hoped upon receiving the code words I would have some idea as to what defensive measure would be taken.
I entered the code. The second line asked for the target's ID, which I then entered.
"Code is a go in 3... 2... 1..."
I submitted the code. Just then I was instantly cut off from the telelink device and rerouted to another network. I watched a hundreds of lines of override coding scroll over my screen.
"Was that supposed to happen?" I felt the pulsing of my biological heart booming in my mechanical audio receptors.
"You guys," Vittori spoke grimly. "Something's wrong with the ambassadors."
"Did you enter the code Viktor?!" James began to shout.
"I did," I panicked, "But I think my system is being hacked!"
"They're eyes are all glowing red." I could see her rising from her chair, "All the camera men seem to be in a fluster. The network must have gone offline."
I heard a sudden boom followed by a screaming crowd.
"Whats going on in there?!" James began to race inside.
Vittori didn't respond.
"James," I watched in disbelief, "I'm having trouble seeing beyond these override codes, but it appears Vittori is fighting one of the ambassadors’ androids."
"I'm on my way." James said.
Just as his radio clicked off, I saw two more of the Ambassadors' droids in flight burst through the walls of the conference center and land just before James. He pulled out his rifle opening fire, but in one quick motion, one of the droids slashed at him, and his head came clean off.
"Oh shit," I raced down from my post, in the opposite direction of the stampede attempting to escape. I grabbed a man firmly with both fists.
"What's happening in there?" I shouted.
He was shaking as he pointed to a flying android. "THEY'VE ALL BEEN HACKED!"
I watched an android's devilish red eyes flash and a laser pierce through a man's head, throw another man 20 yards against concrete, and crack another man's skull with a cold, metallic punch. All sense of humanity had left the diplomatic ambassadors.
"Vittori," I radioed to her, "Hold on I'm coming!"
I could see her still struggling with the android. She managed to dodge all of its blows, this one not being equipped with lasers or a jet pack.
"Can you hear me?!" I heard a voice tune in through my audio receptors as the override codes began to flash yellow.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"It's me, Hark. Don't panic. I'm here to help."
"You?" I felt shaken with uncertainty. "How?"
"I'm breaking your link from the device you've brought with you. It's hacking the entire local network."
"Wait," I tried to process the thought as I watched in horror as two more androids closed in on Vittori. "The telelink? How do you even know about all of this?"
"I was sent here to stop you," Hark said. "Code Helping Hands isn't what you think. I need you to stop the final phase of the code sequence, Viktor!"
"How?!" I pushed screaming citizens out of the way, desperate to reach Vittori before the other androids.
"I've sent you a counter code. Enter it now!"
"Ah, I practically roared, stopping abruptly to enter the code. "I swear if you're lying to me, I will personally rip your head from your spine."
"Just do it! Trust me."
Just as I began to submit the code, an android with a sword socked me directly in my chest, slamming me into the concrete, cracking the foundation. Suddenly numbing as my heart raced irregularly, I peeked up at the red eyed android in time to see another fist crush against my steel skull, chipping large portions of its surface from its force.
"That code is the only way to deactivate the androids!" I heard Hark shouting through crackled receptors.
"The software is crashing," I watched as the harrowing metal giant closed the space between us. "My CPU has sustained too much damage."
I watched Hark crash into the room behind the android. The driod turned to the scrawny man whose eyes widened with sudden horror.
"There you are." The ambassador’s corrupted voice boomed through the chamber. In an instant the android's fiery eyes launched a small beam toward Hark, exploding upon impact.
“Damnit!” In a frenzy, I attempted to reboot the software, but it reopens slowly, screen going blank intermittently. I attempted to reenter the code.
"Viktor!" I hear Vittori breathy shout from behind me. I look back to her, face beaten, knuckles bloodied, calling for my attention in a last ditch attempt at survival.
In slow motioned, I watched the ambassador's android detach the blade from his arm and throw its pointy edge, where it landed square in her heart. Her widened eyes gradually came to a close as she tumbled to the floor, swarmed by the demonic androids.
I almost lost all ability to move, think, or even watch as hell was unleashed before my eyes. Despite being 90 percent machine, emotions were a thing I was still capable of. In fact it seemed to further cripple my processor's response time as I continued pasting the key code. But the towering ambassador finally walked back toward me with what appeared to be a deliberate, calculated entrance.
Completing the final stroke of keys to finish the code, the android made a final statement.
"Here's your help." It spoke with a sonorous timbre.
I submitted the code, and the droid's eyes finally went dark along with all of the rest.
The narrowing crowd continued their screams while fleeing the scene. Pretty soon, I was left to myself to take in the extent of the carnage and the further implications of this massacre. I peered at the ambassador drone standing before me like a statue. With as much fury as I could muster up, I slammed a fist against the bastard, not once, not twice. Over and over again as the metal exoskeleton of its face cracked to a state of being unrecognizable.
I used the last of my energy in this act, but felt absolutely no satisfaction. I felt only the sensation of artificial tears burning though my reticles as I pulled myself to grab the telelink that fell from Vittori's hands. I dialed into the Comms channel to reconnect with Collins. Before I could speak, I heard chatter in progress.
"Has code Helping Hands been initiated?" I heard General Toftkin's voice calmly through the radio.
"Yes sir," Collins responded with a grim inflection.
"Good." The general said. "Any survivors?"
"No sign of our heroes," Collins sounded concerned. "Viktor appears to be offline from the network. Sir? I'm confused about the protocols in this coding. They're encrypted beyond my system's decryption capacity."
"That information is intentionally classified, Collins." He said without a hint of remorse. "Activite the Phoenix Protocol."
"Sir?" Collins sounded confused.
"That's an order." The general buzzed out.
I heard a series of beeps around me. All of the androids began flashing with red dots. I already knew how this was going to end. I closed my eyes as the beeping became more rapid. Finally...
...boom.
* * *
I dressed myself as I would back when I was still a human, when the sun used to warm my face, when I still had a soul. I put on my old jacket, a token from my days in recruitment. While forging through the island villages like a rogue wolf, I was able to replace a few of my parts. You never would have known I had such a tussle. And while on that note, I learned much about the telelink, a traumatizing emblem to my apocalypse, but an invaluable asset nonetheless.
I walked past several levels of security, presenting a holographic badge I had coded with a synthetic barcode to bypass security. I reached two grand wooden doors as tall as the high-top ceiling, the destination that seemed to be destined for me. I had very little time to execute my last orders at Palagos, but I had taken much time to deliberate on this. I performed my own covert reconnaissance mission. I learning as much as I could about the Union from the villagers, I boarded a shop back to Tief under a new identity, I pulled information from every terminal I could get my hands on to form a comprehensive grasp of our history. In a nutshell, I realized the chain of injustice goes way back. Pointing fingers and demonizing one faction over the other would do little more than to drag myself into the vicious current of its cycle.
But this--this was personal. Between the great General and I.
I kicked the polished doors open with all the fury born out of that day out in the Palagos. 9mm in hand, I pointed it straight at the towering lion, faced toward the glass overlooking the city, a glass of whisky in hand.
"Make one move and I'll make short work of you." I said.
Toftkin's scrutinizing eyes observed my reflection calmly through the glass.
"I could say that I'm surprised to see you," the general's voice was disturbingly warm, "but frankly I'm not."
"You're probably thinking you should have turned up the dynamite a little in those driods."
"You should understand something Viktor," he began walking around the room at liberty, "We made a choice that day, the Commander, the Generals, and I, for the good of the world."
"I fail to see how a massacre at a peace summit does any good for anyone."
"I won't expect you to understand," the General placed the glass down on his desk, "I've seen many wars on many planets. I--we--hoped to do more than fall victim to the massive war machines chained through out the stars."
"So you decided to take things into your own hands. Never mind those who were left behind.
"But look at this great society we're creating," he continued. "Your sacrifice has push back the leeches and foreign tyrants that lined our doors. We refuse to take part in the vicious battles that poison the galaxy. We are at peace here."
"You can't create peace from an act of war," my voice grew more commanding, "And you never should have left your friends behind to die."
The General lowered his head with some sign of remorse. "Perhaps one day you'll understand. But I’ve already alerted the guards of your intrusion here. You’re as good as dead."
He pulled a telelink out of his pocket, speed dialing his AI.
Pop!
I unloaded a single bullet square in his heart. A tunnel formed in my mind's eye, and I was transported back in time. I saw my mother and father smiling at me at the dinner table. I saw my friends at school, teasing, rough housing, drinking with glee. I saw my wife crying, begging me not to join the service. Then I saw myself pull the trigger as the last shard of my humanity crystalized into cold, menacing steel.
Collins appeared before us, bewildered.
"Oh, oops." I said feeling myself suffocating with regret.
Collins peered at me, his processor's very quickly analyzing the situation, decidedly taking pity on me.
"I'm pretty sure, accidentally shooting someone, calls for more than an oops."
Stood before a bright, polished cubicled office, Juslin smoothed his gaze across the varying personalities that made the workplace lively. The ever shining light that characterized the business sector of Inovo sparked in his leaf green eyes, but were shadowed by his own heavy brows and jet black hair. His task was simple, yet comprehensive. Promoted to senior market analyst after dedicating over a decade to Highland Industries and having provided for the company pivotal intel regarding the state of the economic and political climate, he now enjoys the opportunity to sit in on the chairmen committee meetings.
The sometimes great and sometimes meddlesome thing about Juslin is that he is a neutral subject matter expert. He prepares for the board facts and his own projections of the state of things, then offers advice regarding the course of action the committee should take in allocating resources, proceeding with or rejecting potential projects, and how to loosen a very tense relationship with the governing authorities. As far as his allegiance, no one in the company is entirely sold that he shares the same values as the rest of the committee. He functions more as the harsh voice of reality that the committee realizes it must come to terms with. Juslin has embraced this role.
Yesterday, the chairmen committee presented the most ambitious proposal in all of the history of Highland Industries, second only to the architecture of the Great Industrial Reconstruction nearly a century ago. The ceaseless effort put forth by the company never surprised him. He had seen time and again to his dismay that the company meant what it sought out to do in a manner that seemed as much benevolent as it was ruthless. Innovation, advancement, excellence: that was really all they set out to do. To make life better, more convenient, and more exciting. But what did surprise him was frankly, the unscrupulous nerve.
“Is it true then?” Mekel stepped before him with his arms folded.
“What rumors could have circulated in the course of...” Juslin checked his watch. “14 hours?”
“The most brilliant idea Highland has invented.” Mekel tilted his head, glaring at him critically. It was clear from his indominable posture why he had chosen a life of finance and not of engineering.
“Indeed,” Juslin confirmed, “So brilliant we might all be blinded by nuclear fission.”
“Please tell me you attempted to dissuade them.” He nearly cursed loud enough for the whole office to hear. The few eyes that snuck a glance at them quickly shifted away when Juslin acknowledged their expressions.
“My job as of late has transformed radically from a simple voice of reason to what feels like the patronizing scolding of a parental figure. But what use is it anymore? The chairmen are constantly being replaced with younger, more eager faces. I’m being aged out, and my voice is further strained by the fact that over the past couple years, Highland has gotten away with just about every means of bending the rules despite my insistence that it would not go unnoticed.”
“People are noticing,” Mekel said.
“But despite that fact, no one seems to be bothered.”
“Oh, you two!” A sharply dressed, dashing man with silver hair but virtually no wrinkles approached. He might have blown out their ear drums if he spoke any louder.
“Why is it always you two,” Haulond scolded them, “Bickering, complaining, seemingly scheming against your own friends.”
“Listen,” Mekel lowered his voice, “I love this company, I have always loved the things we have accomplished and what principles we have always stood for. But..”
“But when we set to accomplish something truly remarkable, you blind yourselves with fear and conventions!” He got right in his face. “What is so wrong with the damned project this time?”
He turned his frustration to Juslin.
“You of all people I’d have thought would be pleased. This project is a direct response to the real world issues you keep ringing in everyone’s ears.”
“I understand exactly what you’re trying to accomplish,” Juslin planted himself before the wealthy titan. “I’m simply saying, this will not work. In fact, it’s another of a series of steps in the wrong direction. Don’t you see what’s really going on out there?”
“You are so consumed by momentary friction that you can’t see beyond it!” He persisted. “You two have no imagination and you fail to realize we never would have accomplished anything if we all were so easily subdued by screaming bureaucrats. Grow a pair and embrace this. It will be glorious. It will improve life for all of us.”
He forced his way out of the office, sparing no more time for their insolence. Mekel stomped himself back to his cubicle chair, red in the face. Juslin remained standing opposite his desk which stood just beyond Juslin’s office door.
“What can anyone say to him?” Mekel continued angrily. “He’s a Tiefchin. He’s never known what the real world looks like. He might as well be immortal the way his fan boys in the Senate protect him and feed his delusions for a portion of his fortune.”
Juslin rolled his eyes.
“You shouldn’t villainize him,” he was very tired of the confusion, always seemingly in the middle of every debate. “Highland has made life great for all of us. That’s why many stand to defend the chair committee. He doesn’t have to pay them. The problem is here, we’re so far away from what’s really going on, it’s very difficult for them to see it.”
“How can we make them see it?” Mekel threw up his hands.
They heard a beep from within Juslin’s office. Looking through the glass walls, Juslin saw his computer screen flash with a red triangle. Some sort of urgent company wide email notification. Walking into the office to get a full view of the screen, the subject of the email was entitled S.A.M.: model Delta.
“Being under the protection of the Tiefchin has its perks.”
The three of us stood alone in her modern microhome, a kitchen, dining room, and bedroom packed into a space hardly larger than a shipping container. Yet the efficiency of space created the illusion of a grander, complete home. Wilf offered us snacks and coffee to warm from the chill beyond the dome. However the energy that powered everything managed to condition the air so that it felt more like early summer.
Wilf smirked as she illuminated before us a holographic map sitting on the coffee table before her mantel.
“This is our virtual learning academy. A brilliant piece of software engineering linked to the global network and every smart device in the system. It is powered by probably the largest compilations of servers you’ve ever known, and an AI who’s intuitive capacity escapes even my grasp.”
Zamrul and I eyed her, standing tall with proud eyes, then each other, charmed.
“Did I mention I’ve aced every course they’ve had to offer?” She asked, practically pleading for our approval.
“I don’t doubt it for a second!” I said smiling.
She continued her presentation.
“S.A.M.?”
She called to the device, and the image of an androgynous young person appeared before us, beaming with alacrity to partake in some new adventure.
“Wilfie!” the AI exclaimed. “I’m so delighted to see you again. What will we embark on today? More animated ancient literature? Another glimpse at Stoichiometric simulations? Or are how about a trip to Old Puri through the VR experience?”
“Not today Sammie,” she glowed as though she were in love with the thing. “Actually I made some new friends today. They mentioned something about an Orbital--”
Zamrul stepped up suddenly, “Yes we just have a couple of questions.” Shooting Wilf a look. “How far into the history of System 46 does your data store?”
S.A.M, now at attention before the burly metal giant, “What an interesting question! Actually I can recall this planet’s history up until the 24th century. Just decades prior to the Second Great Industrial Reconstruction.”
“And what about before that?” He inquired. “Are all records of civilizations before not stored in your database?”
“Correct,” S.A.M. praised his intrigue, “By my understanding, I am an AI of subclass Delta. All of the information I have access to is reserved for general usage among this planets inhabitants. Data of varying levels of classification are compartmentalized between the other subclasses of artificial intelligence.”
“Yes,” Wilf mentioned, “my friend likes to tell me all about the secrets that are lost in time.”
“Aren’t you worried someone might be curious to know more about these--secrets?” I asked as my brows tightened.
“I have learned by observation with the many students I interact with that to show signs of emotional distress at their inquisitive natures would do little to discourage them. That’s why I answer every question as thoroughly as I am asked. I am happy to give them answers, but I simply don’t have all of them. But truth be told, there are very few who bother to ask at all.”
“And what if I wanted to know more about the other AIs and their tasks. Would you tell me where I could go to get that information?”
“Actually I can tell you about all of the other AIs and their standard protocols. Subclass Deltas like myself are assigned to citizens for recreation and education, while subclass Charlie is registered to the local ranks of the military for surveillance and defensive strategies.
“Subclass Bravo is more of a conglomerate of branches reserved for the the industrious class of architects and engineers who were responsible for bringing about the Reconstruction. This actually extends to all who, through thorough education, have received diplomas in a number of professions.
“Finally, subclass Alpha is what some call a priceless jewel. They are somewhat of a legend at this point. If I am your standard family sedan, they are more like million dollar supercars. You have to be very wealthy to own one, however their value comes not from an extensive database of information, but rather a high utilization of resources for recreational purposes.”
“My theory is space travel,” Wilf whispered.
“I can neither confirm, nor deny,” S.A.M. shrugged. “I simply don’t have access to that part of the network. But that idea is as imaginative as it is a possibility.”
“What if I told you we were from space?” I mentioned, almost casually, but decidedly.
S.A.M. began as though reciting a pledge, “All AIs are to alert subclass Charlie of any intel regarding persons of a foreign nature. In fact the local military should be here any moment now. I hope you’ve prepared an explanation as to your intrusion here.”
A massive crash came from the kitchen, where Zamrul could be seen red faced holding the shattered remains of a coffee cup.
“One last question, before we’re shipped away to a prison cell,” I chuckled grimly, knowing it was only a matter of time before danger would be met, “the planet’s ecosystem. This used to be a nutrient rich land blooming with greenery and wildlife, now the landscape is blanketed in snow and no signs of life seem to be present anywhere. So, my question is why has System 46 blocked all transmissions to and from the outer Orbital Code Force?”
“I understand your concern.”
S.A.M. somberly presented a complete visual representation of System 46 for us to see. The planet spun before us, highlighting how indeed the entire planet was beginning to be entirely engulfed in overcast and snow. S.A.M. glanced out of the single window at the other end of the tiny home.
“I, too, have wondered what’s going on beyond this dome, beyond the plant--beyond my network parameters. But no matter how deep I search through the database, there are no answers for me to find. I simply don’t have see any trace of it. Though I swear it was all there before.”
“You don’t suppose that someone is wiping the database of that information do you?” Wilf pondered.
“Before what?” I asked.
“Before the Reconstruction.” S.A.M. said
“Well despite your betrayal,” Zamrul’s voice boomed through the room, "today is your lucky day.”
He pulled out a MicroSync drive and presented it before the AI.
“A GeoSync device?” S.A.M. eyed it with fascination. “I’ve never seen one from outside the system. What will it do?”
“Oh, it could do a great many things if you can decipher layers upon layers of encrypted data, as I cannot.” He said. “But what it can certainly do is reestablish your connection with the Orbital Code Force’s Mainframe...”
“...Where a decryption key could potentially be found.” S.A.M. figured, suddenly awakened by the GeoSync’s potential.
“Do you suppose the decryption key will tell you more of what’s happening out there?” Wilf asked.
“Are you kidding?” S.A.M. lit up with excitement. “Given the right coding, it could decipher all layers of encrypted data and potentially break through every level of security clearance that has been established by the network.”
“Which isn’t strictly speaking legal in the eyes of the OCF.” Zamrul shifted his eyes around the room.
“Nor is it wise to arm an AI with such a wealth of information.” I reinforced his point.
“But given that this is an emergency--for a small price,” Zamrul smoothed his goatee, “I will grant you access to a very, very small subset of the OCF’s data network.”
A bugle horn sounded from just beyond the walls of the dome.
We had no need to worry about leaving our ship abandoned in the snowy wasteland. Zamrul equipped us with unheard of technology, including a GPS that mapped and transmitted coordinates at light speed in any landscape without connecting to an established network. He mentioned casually how the currents that flowed through the earth and the ether were all this bit needed. The jet was also reconstructed to include a camouflaged mode, where at the flip of a switch the outer plating becomes encased in a reflective coat. In addition, a sentry turret armed with an AI aim assisted laser sight machine gun can sense heat signatures from 396 meters away, and will self activate in emergency mode--which he eagerly turned on as we exited the ships. Although I had more of a talent for the mystical arts, I was continually fascinated by the complexity of his gadgets.
“I see Tiev hasn’t updated her geographical data in nearly a decade,” he appeared perplexed. “According to these coordinates, we should be standing in a massive body of water.”
I stretched out my palm and felt a burst of energy rush first from the ground beneath us, to the center of my chest, then to my hand. A beam of energy swirled into my hand like a small network of red electrical currents confined into a circular matrix. I manipulated its potential energy and sprung forth a clean laser to the ground just before us. The ice melted to reveal only sandy earth.
“No sign of a lake,” I said.
I turned about to get a 360 look, still holding the matrix, finding it nearly impossible to see more than 20 feet ahead of us.
“My professor told me never to tamper with the elements,” I said feeling his eyes peering into me like a haunting spirit, “But given that your intel is out of date, a short interruption to this weather might help us a bit.”
The matrix went cold, dissipating and reintegrating with the core of the planet below us. I began to feel the electric currents stitched through the overcast clouds shock my finger tips. My eyes began to burn sapphire and my hands began to emit a blue aura as I waved them. The wind rushed around us as an opening in the clouds brought forth a faint beam of light and the snow around us blew in every direction. Finally--clarity.
“Of course the first thing we see is the legacy of the great Tiefchin,” Zamrul said mockingly.
In a glass dome, like a super industrialized igloo plated with solar panels came into view. It was an impressive sight, as large as a football field. It contained what appeared to be a biological reserve flourishing with green life and miniature houses. My eyes landed on a young woman wearing summer attire, wide eyed grasping an ice cream cone like a squirrel in shock. Zamrul and I laughed heartily, but the apprehension in her eyes only grew more.
I waved, mouthing to her through the glass “Entrance?”
She scurried to another corner of the dome, quickly grabbed a heavy coat, and raced out of what appeared to be a decontamination chamber. She met me with confounded eye as we walked toward her.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
“Oh the weather thing?” I said chuckling, forgetting myself, “I’m one of the Unies, you know? Sorry I know I shouldn’t so much as bend a blade of grass, but we just needed a better view out in this abysmal snow.”
“A Unie?” She continued to gawk at me.
“Well look the clouds are already rushing back and the snow comes back with such haste,” I began to feel nervous, wondering if she would report me to the Orbital Code Force. “Technically this temporary impact in the storm cycle barely amounts to much in the cosmic scheme of things. Remember, mother nature always prevails, trust me.”
She was not amused by this explanation, but what I thought was so curious was she didn’t appear to be hearing any of it anyway. Her gaze shifted to the reformation of the clouds and the density of the snow gradually thickening around us.
“Wait,” I shot a look at Zamrul puzzled, “Have you never met a Unie?”
She tilted her head.
“A Unisentinel?” I asked.
“I’ve never even heard of one.”
Zamrul examined her closely.
“When you say never heard of one,” he asked curiously, “You mean you haven’t received an education?”
“Well excuse me,” she sneered, “In fact I have a thorough education in history, politics, language, and chemistry even. Although I must admit it was your standard education funded and provided by the Tiefchin’s virtual learning academy. Even so I am indeed educated.”
He shrugged apologetically.
“What I am saying is I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire lifetime.”
“Have the Tiefchin not instructed you of the Unies? the Tekbulls? the Furpuls?”
She shook her head.
"They all used to live here!” He said amazed. “The Orbital Code Force published numerous bits of material on all the different peoples of System 46.”
“I don’t know who the Orbital Code Force is, but incase you haven’t noticed, we live in a bubble. The only information we get is what the Tiefchin provide for us.”
She lightened up at a sudden thought.
“But you know I’d always suspected that there was more out there beyond the grasp of the the Tiefchin. They’ve stopped at nothing to stamp their name on everything and claim all of the planet’s valuables to remain under their protection. All high and mighty,” she noted sarcastically. “Why am I not surprised they’ve kept that information a secret from us.
“Well, that’s why we’re here actually.” I said, beginning to see why the thought of this place had been eating away at my spirits. “Can you tell us more about the Tiefchin?”
“I hope you know I’m actually mad at you for bringing us back here.”
Zamrul folded his arms petulantly, flicking switches carelessly on the dashboard before him. The obnoxious metallic clinking was not solely from the bulky armor he wore so ostentatiously. The wheels of the jet scrapped against the uneven terrain. Had we found a landing strip, I might not have knocked half of the supplies shuffled throughout the surfaces onto the floor as I had. Yet I admit I had always been a little clumsy.
“You swore we’d never have to see this place again.”
“But I keep seeing it,” I interjected, annoyed. “In a nightmare. One that has become too real for me to ignore.”
“Can you be troubled so easily by dreams?” He wanted to laugh, but was overcome by the gravity of making landfall in a landscape that became more clear as the dust cleared. “Hedrie, no one is doubting your wisdom. I just think this is going to be a one way trip.”
“I do realize this,” I said with impulsive haste, “That’s why I’m not forcing you to come along.”
He was further irritated by this response, knowing he would not allow me to walk into this harrowing dimension without his support--as well as his heavily modified military grade tech and weapons, which he mostly looted.
I grabbed a cloak to brace for the cold and an instrument in preparation of what I begged wouldn’t unfold upon our venture. As we stepped out into the snow I caught a glimpse of a childhood memory. The summers here used to be grand and golden. The trees used to tower all around us and bloomed well into fall. People had simple dreams of building tool sheds and canning jams. Now the land stood barren, and not merely because of the seemingly endless winter. The place had been ravaged, just as I had envisioned in my nightmares.
He was commissioned to pursue his craft yesterday, for the first time in what felt like a year. You should have seen the childlike joy that bubbled to his expression. With sunlit eyes he began chiseling into a canvas as if the art filled mind never ceased to create.
In the meantime, he'd been tilling the fields for electric cords, super-powered motherboards, and the unfathomable light speed cyberspace of the internet. If his mind wasn't busy pondering the most thorough means of portraying beauty in his art, it was tangled in countless theories to the advanced applications of intuitive AI programs and systemic automation. But I had always suspected what his words translated into reality, he knew in the recesses of his mind were largely science fiction, not to be practically endeavored upon.
"There's a reason this tree only reaches so high toward the sun," he illustrated to me, sensing what he meant vaguely.
But when you looked at the subtle details that comprised of this tree, it was no feeble plant. Even with its sloping branches and shattered bark, it was a marvelous natural wonder. He explained how nature presents to us in its most humble form how there's no need for shining armor and mechanical alterations to be lovely and grand.
But I had to ask him, "Do you suppose people will understand that from viewing your creations?"
His seagreen eyes were tempted to sway away from the easel, and through the window before us stood the towering, ice capped mountains and coastal pine trees that flourished under the autumn sun.
"I think it could slap people in the face every day of their lives and they wouldn't quite understand that."
If it has to be one or the other, you’ve got to think about what each entails and what it has to offer. I think this decisions will vary from person to person based on what they value and what the aspire to be in life.
With money comes many things: the power to acquire, the ability to influence and dictate, the means to achieve a vision. It’s a great thing to have money, but you can’t just have lots of money and not realize the weight of the responsibility that comes with having that money. Money is a means to acquire resources that are indeed bountiful, but they are also limited. One man can’t have everything, because then everyone else will have nothing. So when you’re choosing money, you’re still going to be faced with that responsibility no matter how hard you try to run from it.
With education, in the most basic sense you acquire knowledge. You can learn how to do thing, you can learn about complex subjects like physics and chemistry, and you can learn about big and complex systems work. But beyond just obtaining knowledge, a thorough education equips a person with the ability to reason. It gives them the power to look at a situation, conceptualize it so that it makes sense, and figure out reasonable responses to it. An education helps a person to navigate the most difficult aspects of life (politics, social issues, survival) by utilizing the ability to imagine, to create, to discover, and to have discussions in order to understand. This is still a power that can be abused. A person can then use their education to cheat people, to take advantage of people who aren’t as knowledgeable, or manipulate people into doing things for them.
At the end of the day, a person can choose either according to their values and what they aspire to. The strength of their character and how good their heart is will show regardless of which avenue they chose.
PS. Both of them are pretty darn important though.
Everyday I fall more in love with you, emboldening the vision of our future with a picturesque garden, starry eyed children, and simple, homely pleasures. Please don’t break my heart.
On her way out, an electrifying sensation permeated through the air. Like stepping into a new world, it was exhilarating, inspiring—daunting. Her father seemed to notice. He sat on a high backed chair before a skinny table and a cup of tea, reading a book entitled, The Crumbling Tower. He didn’t stop her. Remembering something, he smiled and waved her off.
Down the marbled driveway, she awaited in the midst of the verdent estate. Fruit trees lines the path before an old gate on an old road in an old town. The gate buzzed and through it drove a fashionable sport vehicle, new and ostentatiously detailed. The man inside activated the automated passenger door, beaming at her like a boy on his first vacation.
“You look lovely,” she said to him before he had the chance to speak. His hair a pure glossy black and his eyes a dark green, his face was shy of color as his lips trembled.
“There’s a place I’d like to take you.” David said. “I call it my second home.”
Into the city center, they parked near a night club with a sparkling marquee. When they entered, as a wave of silence stilled the air, every eye landed on her. Her blonde hair, her slender floral dress, her finely applied makeup stood in contrast to the others. She was unprepared, but before her cheeks flushed, she pursed her lips casually and followed her partner.
“At this table,” he lead the way beyond smoke stained pool tables and a fully occupied bar. Before they sat, they greeted another couple. The man wore a tired pinstripe button up and casual slacks, the lady a thin black blouse accentuated by her cleavage, piercing red lipstick, and heavy eyeliner. Tapping their cigarettes, both looking tired, they ordered whisky for the table.
“Your name?” The lady asked.
“Clair,” she said.
“Can I steal her for a moment?” She asked.
He eyed her. “For a moment.”
She smiled with a glimpse of mischief and grasped her arm like old friends. She lead Clair to the courtyard outside where the evening sun embloldened beyond the surrounding high rises.
“Do you have any idea where you are?” She asked her, like an elder addressing a child.
“I’m sorry,” Clair puzzled, “Truthfully I know very little about David and his associates.”
“My family owns this place,” she spoke sharply. She extended out a finger. “And that one, as well as that block over there.”
“Impressive,” Clair responded casually, but the charm was lost on her.
“My father was poor in his youth.” She sensed Clair’s indifference. “He worked hard, studied politics and economics. He made his way unconventionally in an outdated system.”
The jab did not go unnoticed or unfelt. “David told you—”
“All about your silver spoons and your decorated palace...”
Clair felt her chills over her skin, her fingers clenching as she grasped her armpits. She didn’t quite understand where the hostility was coming from.
“...and its history.” the lady made her point with finality. Yet her expression eased, as though she recognized her frustration was misplaced.
“My father talks fiercely of his new age industry and the many ambitions he intends to pursue. He assured us that with the level of security he’s established, no one will ever speak his name without quaking.”
She gazed into the sky, eyes shading with a hint dispondency. “And David, my brother, follows behind him like an eager puppy.”
Acknowledging her sense of contrition, “What about you?” Claire asked.
David’s sister traced a line from one table of solemn men brandishing gun holsters and designer suits to the next.
“I don’t remember what it was like not being surrounded by gangsters and crooked cops.”
She observed Clair, her politeness, and her floral print dress, and made a swift deduction.
“If I were you,” she said, “I’d end it now while it’s early.”
Clair glanced at David as he spoke evenly with the other man. He took a swig of whisky and caught her eye. They eased on her as he smiled a little, his eyes suddenly lovely and dreaming.
According to their universal time stamp, the date of my observation began on a C/20-2099.11.17.17.50 The objective is to record the current status of all found species and catalogue each based on similar genetics and behavioral patterns. The purpose of documenting this data has been speculated upon, but has officially been declared as for preliminary measures to achieve diplomacy between this world and ours.
My current status is stable. The EtroCPU that powers my artificial intelligence was promptly upgraded before my venture began. The metallic infrastructures of my shell have withstood exposure exceedingly well, despite the massive hyper speed jump from our home galaxy to theirs. The software components that compose the different facets of my functions continue to operate without any hiccups. However, it is particularly concerning that the EtroNet signal fades occasionally upon my travels. This is likely because the life that has established here has achieved significant progress in producing their own satellite networks, resulting in my signal interference.
Due to the highly volatile nature of this particular planet and its species, I was instructed to remain unseen and practice discretion during my observations. The last thing the Uplete expected upon my journey here was signs of intelligent life so isolated from other life sustaining planets. There are strict protocols in place in regards to interactions with foreign signs of intelligence. Escalation should be avoided at all cost. The ubiquitous networking capacity of the foreign satellites that surround me might perhaps make for short work. Yet, it is plausible even a quick tap into any one of those fortified networks could have disastrous ramifications. Therefore “personal” naturalistic observation, as was originally intended, will be the safest option.
Program FotW has been executed. The plus side of being programmed for this particular function is the low desnisty metal that accounts for my robotic structure can be reorchestrated easily to expand or contract. For the purpose of being unseen, my current size is comparable to a “house fly.” Only about 1/4 the size of my original shape. Upon scanning the first computerized device I found upon making landfall, the size and scope of their processors and capacitors suggests the primary species of this planet has come exceedingly close to the progress we have made, less a couple of centuries. Time will soon tell of their discipline of their subjects as well as the nature of their ethics. It is clear they have the capacity to do great things: good or not so good.
The unattended computerized unit I stumbled upon sat in a mostly vacant library. What a wealth of knowledge. From archeological studies and comprehensive neural psychology to digitalized replications of past species and advanced macroeconomics. Their history resembles ours, young and ambitious, and unfortunately proud too. Their languages share many common ties to their progenitors which have made the process of deciphering each variably less challenging. The diversity of life comes as no surprise, as the fertility of the planet reaches near 85%, of particular note is the complexity of the genetic structures of aquatic species.
A restless sensation collapsed inside of me, like the alarming shock of a defibrillator. Visions of things both surreal and lovely surrounded me with vibrant clarity. A joyful child tossed his toys across a neatly trimmed landscape, an industrious graduate presents machinations of brilliant and innovative calculations before wealthy, generous investors. A woman adorned in silk and lip gloss dances around her partner with sparkling, dreamy eyes. In this apparent revere, I see myself reliving old memories and grasping the common thread that was tethered to my feet.
To describe the feeling is a challenge, like trying to describe water as it slips away from your grasp. The world stopped spinning and the currents of nature began to sing. My hands became cold and my fingers went numb. The light that flashed in my eyes caused me to lower my gaze into silence. I saw my face reflecting in the sea’s steady folds, a face that summed the narrative down to one clear truth.
I stood up in the crowd and moved to introduce myself but was met with only with their silence. I was a ghost watching the children play, the dreamers leap, and the lovers love as though it were a film presented before me. I walked to the end where finally a man with shimmering eyes raised his soft hands toward me. I reached out to embrace him, feeling perhaps this lonesome nightmare might brighten into a dream. But when I went to touch, my fingers slipped right through his and his eyes looked beyond to the one who followed behind me. They embraced, they fell in love, they lived a life together; two souls joined together as one endowed with compassion and vigor, just what one needs to survive in this atrocious world. I watched their story unfold, eyes softened, thoughts humbled, and heart flattened as my face disappeared again in the crowd.
It was perspective I felt. I observed my works, the music I had created, the stories I had written, the hours I had sweated for present and past employers. I had wrapped it neatly with precision and with the colors of my heart’s true nature. And there in some little corner of the world I sang its melody knowing it was the greatest campaign known to me to summon what one might call a wonderful life. But, like magic, my lyrics swam toward those who filled the room and rebounded. A slight that didn’t so much as turn heads. How can I explain it? Then it became clear.
It’s just me. It’s my eyes, my lips, and my nose. It’s my hands, my skin, and my chest. Deficient and uninspiring. Lacking in energy, meek, with a grasping tone. It’s me. My hair does not flow in the wind. My hands are calloused and rough. My eyes hide away from the beauty that I’ll never possess. It’s just me, and it’s my truth. I’m not the one they fall in love with. I’m the one their eyes skip right over. The shining knight doesn’t rescue me, he just pities me. I’m not seen as quirky and unique, just outlandish and annoying. The feeling was new perspective, or I should say, was the absence of feeling. I fell hidden underneath the shadows of the men who stand tall around me. No amount of working or wishing will ever make me one of them.
So I accepted it. I watch solemnly as the world around me continues to live and love and dream. I stay silent and help to support and enforce the dreams of those that do still believe. I let the girls sing and the men grow rich and I won’t say a thing to make them dream any less. I should have known better than to think the theatrics could create a love that wasn’t meant to be.
I’ve heard of many awful stories from history. Stories of how petty rivalries brew into hatred and greed blinds people from recognizing the monstrosity of carelessness. Men lying dead in the field from hopeless wars, children and families slaughtered by powerful imperialists, and people left on the streets to starve due to disability or impoverishment. The painful realization is that at many points in history people have cried out in agony with their last breath, but no one was there to save them. These atrocities live on beyond the one injustice. The wrongful death of a son lives on in the heart of the graceful mother, the solemn father, the hopeless daughter, and the vengeful brother. It doesn’t disappear and the ramifications of injustice may lay dormant for a while, but are easily stirred to the surface when pressures become to great.
But now there is today and how we chose to proceed with all of the cruelty and pain that we have seen. They have said “Be the change you want to see in the world,” and that’s when things click into place. So I remember each soul I encounter has struggled, has persevered, and has dreamed. Whether they appear like a shimmering angel or a demented madman, the words that fall out of my mouth leave inpressions on everyone and they all deserve to be uplifted with positivity. Regardless of nationality, gender, religion, sexuality, or race, is it not simpler to realize we are all just human, no greater or smaller than the other? Why stir conflict when one can offer solutions? The change I see is kinder to the both rich and poor, more sensible regarding the economy, the ecosystem, and matters of the heart, and is proactive to solve problems instead of dissolving into hatred and indifference. The more I walk through life, the more aware I am of how much hatred ripples through the air, but love does just the same. I meditate each day on how to relinquish fear and hatred in my heart, embrace change, and be the kind, friendly person that I hope to see out in the world.
