David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“No!” Aldous quickly shouted, turning to Samantha and the other post-humans assembled. “We’re not killers. They’re the ones that are here for war, not us. We won’t lose sight of who we are!”

“It’s a little beyond that now, don’t you think?” Samantha replied. “They’re here to kill us.”

“It’s not that simple,” Aldous answered, turning back to the rapidly assembling force opposing them. “If they suspected we were here, they could have deployed a tactical nuke. There’s no need for all of this…this show.”

“Then what do they want?” Sanha shouted from amongst the increasingly large group of assembled post-humans.

“I don’t know. To negotiate our surrender?” Aldous conjectured.

“Or to look us in the eye,” Samantha suggested, “and make sure they get every last one of us.”

Aldous didn’t counter Samantha’s suggestion; it was plausible. Her words had sent a palpable spike in tension in what was already a barely controlled terror amongst those assembled. He turned to them and called out, “A show of hands! Who wishes to make a run for it? We will do our best to cover your escape!”

At first, no hands went up.

“This will be your one and only chance!” Aldous shouted.

A long handful of seconds passed before the first hand went up. Once one went into the air, several others followed. A few seconds later, nearly half of those assembled had raised their hands.

Aldous nodded. “Okay. When I give the word, you must flee as fast as you can and scatter in all directions! We’ll do our best to disrupt any pursuit!”

Sanha was not amongst those who chose to flee. He sidled up beside Aldous and Samantha and shared a determined expression with them. “Any predictions to ease my mind, my old friend?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Aldous replied.

“Then,” Sanha began with a sigh, “at least it should be interesting.”

“Indeed.” Aldous turned to Samantha. “Are you ready, Sam?”

She nodded. “I’m ready. I’ve dreamt of this.”

His eyes narrowed. “I mean it, Sam. We’re not life-takers. We’re life-savers.”

She remained silent.

Aldous didn’t have time to press the point. Every second that passed was another moment in which the Purists might launch their attack. He held his arm up to signal the post-humans, and the entranceway grew suddenly silent as every man, woman, and child collectively held their breath.

“Now!”

“For Christ’s sake!” Craig screamed out as the freezing water bit into his skin, shooting stabs of pain throughout his body. For a moment, he became unhinged, panicking as he clawed desperately in the darkness toward the only thing he could see: the white wall of ice in front of him. His soaked and numb fingers slipped off the icy side as the monolith seemed to toss him aside, back into the black abyss from which he’d come. He thrashed desperately to keep his head above water, the pain of a cranial submersion too painful for him to endure a second time. When it became clear that he couldn’t get a grip on the ice, his mind suddenly cleared.

His mind’s eye was still flashing in his peripheral vision. He’d not yet gone through all of the set-up screens, and the flight systems were up next. As impossible as it sounded, he would have to fly to save himself; failure would make death a certainty.

“Okay, okay,” he sputtered to himself, spitting out frigid salt water as he blinked away the stinging droplets so he could read his screen. The first one asked him to calibrate his vertical ascent by thinking Up . “Goddamn this Jedi crap.” He shut his eyes tight and tried to will himself upward, out of the water. To his utter shock and astonishment, that was exactly what occurred. First his shoulders, then his arms and hands, and eventually even his legs escaped the icy vice of the water. He opened his eyes, astonished, but as soon as he broke his concentration, his ascent stopped. “Ha!” he shouted to himself in amazed triumph. “I did it!”

The text: “Are you satisfied with your vertical ascent? Yes/No, ” appeared on the next screen before his eyes.

“Hell yes!” he shouted as he clicked the YES button with his mind.

Immediately, the next screen asked him to calibrate his vertical descent. The gleeful smile of triumph was quickly replaced with a countenance of horror as he looked down at the frigid water undulating only inches below the soles of his boots.

“Aw hell,” he cursed. “There’s gotta be a way around this.” He tried to flip the screen, but each time he tried, he received an error message. “No. Come on!” After a long minute passed, an implacable conclusion was reached: He would have to dunk himself back into the water. His flight systems were going to force him below the surface of the waves, and he would have to finish the rest of the calibration fully submerged. He fleetingly remembered the respirocytes, causing a brief stab of longing in his chest. Would the new nanobots the A.I. said were throughout his body be able to breathe for him?

The face of the doctor with the beautiful smile suddenly flashed into his memory. “The Freitas test,” he whispered to himself. Without inhaling beforehand, he held his breath, hoping the nanobots would kick in and begin breathing for him. Seconds ticked by as his body shook from the extreme cold. Within just a few moments, his chest began to feel tight as his throat started to close and his head began to pound. He exhaled. “Damn. Damn it!” The nanobots didn’t take over the breathing for him.

He looked back down at the frozen, suffocating abyss. There was only one thing left to do. He began to inhale deeply, taking as much air into his lungs as possible, trying to expand them as much as he could before his descent. “This sucks,” he whispered to himself as he kept his eyes locked on the unconquerable foe below. “I don’t want to die…not again.”

His mind’s eye’s instruction to think down remained. Every moment that he waited to begin, his body shook more violently, sapping more of his energy, and limiting his ability to hold his breath. If he waited much longer, there would be no chance that he could make it back up. “Okay,” he whispered to himself once again. “Okay.”

He thought, Down.

His flight system seemed to take control of his body and push him downward, quickly sinking him into the flesh-flaying fangs of the water. He inhaled until the last possible moment. A second later, his head was below the surface.

“Are you satisfied with your vertical descent? Yes/No .”

Craig clicked YES.

The next screen asked him to calibrate flight to his left.

Craig thought, Left .

The flight systems dragged him through the deadly cold water for a few meters before stopping. Valuable seconds ticked by.

“Are you satisfied with your horizontal left? Yes/No.”

Craig clicked YES. Yes, Goddamn it!

The screen asking to calibrate for horizontal right appeared next.

Craig thought, Right .

The movement to the right nearly sucked the rest of the air out of his lungs. He was on the edge of panic.

“Are you satisfied…”

Yes, Goddamn it! Yes!

The forward horizontal calibration screen appeared.

Craig thought, Forward, and the flight systems brought him mere centimeters from the wall of the iceberg.

“Are you satisfied…”

Craig clicked YES.

Backward was next.

Craig thought, Backward , then clicked YES.

“Initial calibration complete, ” read the next screen.

Craig had run out of time.

He thought, Up, and prayed that the flight system would answer.