David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“Good luck,” Craig replied as he watched Weddell jog into the yellow fog and disappear over the lip of the crater.

He turned back to Wilson and got down to his knees. The commander’s face was pale and lifeless—a horrific sight. Only minutes ago, he had been alive and in his element, guiding his team and helping the rookie make it safely to the surface. Now he was nothing. Just a bag of tenderized meat.

Or was he? The respirocytes had changed the game. Craig knew if his brain continued getting oxygen until the S.A. bags arrived, Wilson might just have a slim chance. His body had been destroyed, but as long as he could get to a hospital before he suffered brain death, survival was still possible.

“Robbie? Robbie, do you copy?” Craig asked over the radio. Robbie’s signal wasn’t appearing. The robot could run three times the speed of a human sprinter and sustain that pace for hours until his lithium air battery finally gave out. As long as Robbie was able to open his chute in time to avoid being pulverized on a rock somewhere, he should be rapidly approaching, but would he make it in time? “Robbie?” Craig said again, forlornly. It was unlikely that his communication would carry further than the Wi-Fi signal that detected his location.

Suddenly, Robbie’s green dot appeared on Craig’s HUD. Robbie was less than 200 meters away and approaching with supernatural swiftness. He’d be there in less than five seconds. “Robbie! Thank God! We’ve got a man down!”

The dot continued its rapid approach. The dust was beginning to settle, and Craig could peer further through the yellow storm. Robbie’s uncanny robotic run emerged as a dark brown silhouette, accented by the blue lights on his joints. The strange form quickly became larger.

It didn’t appear to be slowing down.

“Robbie?” Craig said one last time before the MAD bot leapt into the air and came crashing down upon him.

At the very last instant, Craig managed to put his arm up and block the attack, but the blow still knocked him hard to the ground. He kicked at the robot and knocked it away from him, sending it crashing to the ground a few meters away. “Robbie! Stand down!” he commanded.

The robot didn’t obey. Instead, it charged at him again, appearing from out of the yellow dust, barreling toward Craig’s chest.

“Goddamn it!” Craig shouted as he blocked the attack, backhanding Robbie to the side, sending the robot tumbling as it struggled to stay on its feet. The machine was faster than Craig, but its balance, although serviceable, was still inferior to that of a human. Craig used this advantage, along with the strength of his exoskeleton, which was equal to Robbie’s, to stay in the fight. “Sleep, Robbie! Sleep mode!” he commanded desperately.

Robbie had tumbled onto his side but he quickly snapped back up to his feet and began charging.

It was clear that the robot was no longer Robbie; the Chinese A.I. had somehow taken control of the MAD bot. Craig’s only chance was to terminate the unit before it terminated him. With no time to pull out one of his guns, he would have to repel one last attack and get Robbie onto the ground again. He punched the robot as it reached him, badly denting its face and driving it backward into the dust. It fell to the ground once more, and Craig immediately stood atop it, planting his heels on its chest. He reached for his backpack and began to withdraw one of his guns so he could blast the machine in the head and chest to disable it.

Before he could retrieve his weapon, however, it deftly swung its metal legs up under Craig’s pelvis and used a super-fast, powerful kick to drive Craig’s very human body upward and off of it. The impact sent Craig nearly three meters into the air, but far worse, it shattered his pelvis and lower spine, instantly paralyzing him below the waist. Craig landed in the dirt, face down, in shock, barely able to move.

A second later, Robbie had him twisted around, tossing him onto his back. “No,” Craig said weakly as the machine drove its fist through the several layers of protection of the SOLO suit and grasped the front of his uniform, pulling his limp body, helmet and all, out of its protection as though he were a premature calf being roughly liberated from the dead body of its mother. Robbie tossed Craig roughly next to Wilson before quickly crawling into the SOLO suit and exoskeleton, assuming control and expertly retrieving the guns.

“No,” Craig whispered weakly again as he watched. He remembered what Wilson had said about being exposed to the fallout, but he was helpless. He couldn’t feel his legs, and he couldn’t defend himself. All he could do was lie there on his side and watch as Robbie leapt into the crater, undoubtedly in search of the rest of the SOLO team.

“SOLO team,” Craig said, mustering as much strength as possible as he tried to warn the rest of the men of the uncontrollable threat that was stalking them. “The A.I. has control of Robbie. Do you copy?” His voice barely crossed the threshold of a whisper. The radio returned only empty static. “No,” he said one last time.

Flashes of light popped in the dust cloud of the crater like sheet lightning on a summer evening back on the farm. Each flash was a cruel joke—an exclamation point on the A.I.’s victory.

“Not like this,” Craig whispered. “Not like this.” He tried to take a breath, but he couldn’t. “Samantha…” he began, his tone suddenly softening. “Sam. I don’t know if they’re going to let you see this, but just in case, I love you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it back to you. I wish…I wish we’d been born in a different time. You were the love of my life. You are the love of my life.” He looked back down at Wilson’s face, lifeless. The image was surreal. It seemed wrong. “Life is the most important thing, Sam. Keep living. No matter what. Keep living. ”

A few moments later, Robbie leapt preternaturally out of the crater and landed inches from where Craig remained, immobilized like an ant with its legs pulled off. The MAD bot aimed its gun, pointing the barrel squarely at Craig’s chest.

“If you don’t want to see the future,” the A.I. began in Robbie’s juvenile voice, “then you have to die.”

The gun thundered to life.

Craig died.

There wasn’t even blackness.

WAKING UP wasn’t a choice. Even if one hoped to rest in peace, eternal sleep was no longer an option.

Craig opened his eyes, his head in a hazy stupor, but the picture quickly became understandable. He was in a bed, his wife nearby to the left, the room small and sterile. “I’m alive,” he whispered.

“Yes, you’re alive,” Samantha replied, her lips smiling while her eyes told an altogether different story.

“It was a trap,” Craig suddenly said. “The others—”

Samantha stepped to him and took his left hand, causing him to suddenly realize that his wrist was in a restraint. “Craig, you’re alive. You’re safe. I’ve missed you more than you can know.” She placed her head on his chest and put an open palm on his heart. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

He wanted to hold her, but the restraints made it impossible. He could only move his left thumb against the side of her hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’m alive. We’re going to be okay, no matter what. I won’t leave you again—not ever.”

She suddenly stood straight, her face tensed hard against some sort of hidden anguish. “But, Craig, there are things I have to tell you that won’t be easy to hear.”

Craig read the sympathetic expression on her face. She hadn’t been to war, and she didn’t realize the strength of a serviceman. To her, the news that his team was dead seemed beyond words—but he knew he could handle it. He’d seen it with his own eyes, and he remembered it in vivid detail. “I’m ready,” he said softly as he nodded to his wife. “I can take it. My team. They didn’t make it. Right?”