David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

Samantha shook her head and looked down at Craig’s hand in hers. “No. They didn’t make it.”

Craig nodded again and sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. “I remember. I remember Robbie killing them.”

Samantha looked up suddenly, her eyes intently fixed on Craig’s, her expression one of curiosity. “How much do you remember?”

“I-I remember fighting the robot. I remember it leaping into the crater, chasing down the others. From that point on, it’s a little fuzzy.”

“Can you remember at all what happened to you? ” she asked earnestly.

He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up the memory. “I was injured. I wasn’t in my SOLO suit. I must have…passed out.”

Samantha’s chest heaved as she tried in vain to control her breathing. Nothing could have prepared her for this situation—and it was about to get worse.

“How’d…how did they get me out of there?” Craig asked.

“It was your MAD bot. It’d been hacked by the Chinese A.I., but once it…finished with all of you, it released the MAD bot, and then Robbie returned to normal protocol. It collected your corpses and put you all into suspended—”

“What?” Craig cut her off. “Corpses?”

Samantha’s face was overwhelmed with emotion. “Craig,” she began, “ you died. ”

His grip on her hand tightened. He’d been right. With a super soldier, everything was possible. He let go of a long exhale and then tried to relax against his pillow as he nodded once again. “The respirocytes kept my brain alive,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes, and your MAD bot put you into the suspended animation bag. It dragged your entire team up to the extraction point on top of Maluan Mountain. The radiation levels were low up there. You were picked up…” She paused for a moment, seemingly having to will herself over a nearly insurmountable barrier before finishing, “You were picked up…when the war ended.”

Craig’s breathing suddenly picked up. “When the war ended? Sam…how long has it been?” It couldn’t have been that long , Craig thought to himself, desperately. Sam hasn’t changed that much. Her hair is a bit different—something about her face—a bit smoother. Months? A year?

Samantha inhaled and slowly blinked her eyes before placing her hand upon Craig’s chest in an attempt to calm him. “Craig, the war ended fourteen years ago. ”

“His cortisol levels just spiked dramatically,” informed the voice from the shadows. “I’ll signal his nans to stimulate his hypothalamus to produce corticotrophin-releasing hormone accordingly.”

“Just keep him calm,” Aldous Gibson replied as he stood inches from the LCD wall that served as a one-way window into the recovery room. “The play-by-play is not necessary.”

“Understood,” replied the voice. “My apologies.”

On the other side of the window, Craig’s panic was suddenly soothed. Against all reason, he was beginning to relax. “Fourteen years?” he whispered. He turned and regarded his side of the window; from where he was, it didn’t appear as a window at all, the screen running an image of a beige wall, tiny chips in the paint visible to sell the forgery.

Samantha quickly noticed Craig’s sudden and unnatural calmness. She turned her head slightly and glared at the wall but didn’t dare shake her head, fearful of tipping Craig off to the fact that they were not alone.

“You may have overdone it,” Aldous said quietly over his shoulder to the shadows. “Perhaps, rein it in a little.”

Craig suddenly scoffed, a smile donning on his face. “A joke?”

“Craig, I obviously wouldn’t joke about this.”

The smile melted. “But I couldn’t have been…it’s impossible. You are thirty-two years old. You’d be forty-six now, but you look…” He squinted as he scrutinized her juvenile countenance, “twenty-five.”

“I’m forty-six, Craig,” she quickly replied. “You are thirty-two, just as you were when you…” She paused for a moment as she struggled to find the right tone with which to say, “…died.”

Craig was silent. His eyes were locked on hers, but the situation had moved into the realm of absurdity.

She sighed and tried to relax her shoulders as she sat on the side of his bed. “So much has happened since you died. It’s hard to explain it.”

“How can you still be so young looking?”

“I’ve had a variety of treatments over the last decade,” she began. “We’ve had so many breakthroughs. You remember, Craig, when we used to talk about Moore’s Law? ”

“Of course—exponential improvement in processing power for computers. It was all the Purists talked about when they were warning against strong A.I.”

“Well, Moore’s Law has continued. Processing power keeps exponentially increasing, even as Morgan tried to stomp out strong A.I.”

Craig’s face suddenly twitched as a thought struck him. “The war ended? Did we win?”

Her expression was neutral. “Morgan won. We didn’t win anything.”

The strange calm Craig had been feeling was quickly fading. “Honey,” Craig replied, “this is tough enough for me. Can you try to be clear? I need to know.”

“He succeeded in destroying the Chinese A.I. He detonated another tactical nuke right in the crater where you and your team were sent to investigate. Since then, he and his fascist government have been waging the Species War against strong A.I. It’s become like McCarthyism out there. Of course, it’s really just an excuse to maintain his draconian legal powers and remain in power as a dictator.” She held her right hand up to her forehead and squeezed her temples. “We’ve been hunted, Craig. Morgan’s taken over the entire world. There are no more free countries. China was absorbed into the Democratic Union, and then Morgan just made himself the head of state of the World Government. After WWIII, no one was left to oppose him, and individual governments were deemed dangerous in case any ‘rogue states’ chose to develop A.I. Craig, five and a half billion people died in that war. No one had the stomach to disagree with him. In the minds of most of the remaining population, A.I. equals evil.”

An intense concern narrowed Craig’s eyes. “You said you’ve been hunted. Why? Are you building strong A.I.?”

Her eyes darted up to him. “ We’ve already built it .”

“The levels are spiking again, Professor,” the voice said. “Shall I?”

“No,” Aldous replied resignedly. “This is her show. We’ll resist tampering.”

“That may be dangerous, Professor.”

“It might be messy,” Aldous conceded, “but it is her decision. Let’s abide by it, shall we?”

“As you wish.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Craig reacted, resisting the urge to scream and instead whispering harshly. “Five billion people died to prevent that, and now you’re making all of their deaths meaningless, as if their lives were worth nothing!”

“I didn’t make their deaths about nothing,” Samantha retorted. “Their deaths were meaningless because of Morgan. I never asked anyone to die for me.”

Craig shut his eyes tight and tried to control his breathing. Exasperated, he decided his best course of action was a quick retreat. “I’m alive,” he began in a softer tone. “That’s all that matters.” His breathing began to slow and come under control. “All of this other stuff, we can deal with it as it comes. Baby, I’m just so happy to see you. Please undo these restraints.”

Samantha didn’t move.

“You gave me the bad news, but I’m okay. Just set me free and let me hold you.”

She remained still. “I… I didn’t tell you everything.”