David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“You mean,” Craig said, astounded, “he left her there?”

“Affirmative,” Paine answered before taking a sip of his tea.

“Goddamn. I knew he was a coward.”

Paine grinned. “You and I are on the same page on that one, Doc.”

“So, was Samantha the one that told you where the A.I. was?”

“No,” Paine replied. “She was…uncooperative. A Professor Sanha Cho was able to fill us in. He set the Planck machine so that we could attempt to apprehend the A.I. Heh. He told us it would probably be carried by a robot. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Craig nodded. “I’m sorry about Sam, Colonel. It’s like she’s been brainwashed.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t—it was like I was talking to a different person.”

Paine shifted in his chair. “It’s not my place to say, Doc, but from what I remember, she had a disloyalty streak fourteen years ago too.”

Craig’s neck snapped upward, and his eyes met Paine’s. As hurtful as it was to hear someone denigrate his wife, he had to admit that there was some truth to what Paine said. “If you don’t mind, sir, when we get back, I’d like to spend some time with her.”

Paine kept his face perfectly still as Craig continued to speak.

“I think I could convince her to see things in a different light. It might take a while, but eventually, I think she could see reason. I’d like to try anyway, sir.”

Paine’s face remained frozen for a second longer than it should have before he finally forced a smile. “Sure. You do that. Do whatever you think is right.”

“Craig,” the A.I. suddenly interjected, “I’m registering an 85 percent chance that he’s lying to you.”

Craig heard the A.I. but tried not to react. Lying to me about what? he thought. About Sam?

“So, sir, were you able to apprehend most of the post-humans in the facility? Were there any casualties?”

“None. It was pretty textbook. We’ve got a few that managed to get through our perimeter, but we’ll pick ‘em up in the next day or so.”

“94 percent chance that was a lie,” the A.I. informed, “and I’m certain that if I could measure his pupil dilation, the percentage would go up. He’s lying to you.”

“So,” Paine began, quickly changing the subject, “is the A.I. on your person? Did they give you a hard drive or something?”

“That’s the thing,” Craig replied, “there’s no hard drive. They injected it into me.”

“What do you mean?” Paine asked, his head cocking to the side.

“They uploaded it into nanobots—they call them nans—and it attached itself to my brain. I’m in communication with it as we speak.”

“Ho-ly hell. Isn’t that something?” Paine turned to his right and nodded to Drummey, who had his neutralizer sitting in his lap. Drummey pulled the trigger, and a blast of rotating frequencies hit Craig, knocking the teacup out of his hand and spilling it to the ground.

He groaned. “What the hell was that?” he asked as his mind’s eye fluttered in and out before finally stabilizing.

“They’ve temporarily disabled your MTF generator,” the A.I. replied.

“Sorry, Doc,” Paine casually said. “I trust you.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “It’s what’s in there that I don’t trust. We’ve neutralized that generator you’ve got in your spine so that we can get you home without any interference from the rider you’ve got. When we get you back, we can get to work getting that thing safely out of you. No hard feelings, right?”

Craig looked up from his doubled over position and nodded. “I suppose it’s…understandable.”

“Good man. Okay. Correct me if I am wrong, but it’s my understanding that you’re scheduled to be in this particular universe for ten hours. Yes?”

“That’s accurate.” Craig groaned as he struggled to right himself in his seat.

“And how long have you been here so far?”

“Nearly two hours,” Craig replied.

Paine nodded. “And this ship takes about two hours to sink, am I right?”

“In our universe, yes, but—”

“And how long ago was the collision with the iceberg?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” Craig replied, “but the ship’s not sinking.”

Paine’s eyebrows knitted above his computerized eyes. “What?”

“The Titanic isn’t sinking. It rammed the iceberg head on. The collision damaged the hull but didn’t breach it. We’re safe. Everyone is safe.”

Paine stood to his feet, suddenly alarmed. “Are you telling me that even after all that damage, this ship isn’t going down?”

“Affirmative, sir,” Craig replied, smiling. “I pushed the ship straight on into the iceberg. The A.I. said that was the best way to keep the ship from foundering.”

“The A.I.,” Paine replied with a sneer. “Of course. Of course it would say that.” The colonel paced away from the trio of men and left them sitting in their chairs for a few moments as he mulled over his next move. His cybernetic hand stroked his chin as he worked his way through the scenario, moving toward the correct strategic decision. Finally, he turned to the men and announced, “Men, we have to sink this ship.”

“What?” Craig reacted, astounded. “Why?”

“Doc,” Paine began with a sigh, “I respect you. I respect the hell outta you. You always put the lives of others before your own. I wish more soldiers had your qualities.”

“90 percent chance that he’s being honest,” the A.I. noted.

“However, this is one of those extremely rare instances when saving the lives of thousands of innocent people comes at the cost of putting the lives of innumerable other people at risk.”

“Sir, with all due respect—”

“Think about the consequences of your actions,” Paine said, cutting Craig off. “You’ve altered the natural history of this timeline.”

“Natural?”

“Not only are you keeping the 1,500 people who are supposed to die tonight alive, causing a cascading effect that can’t be measured, but you’ve also managed to make your presence known to everyone on this damn ship. I even saw a kid on the deck with a damn camera. Do you realize that if this ship makes it into port, our picture is going to be on the cover of every major newspaper in the world?”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Doc!” Paine suddenly shouted. “We’ve exposed these people to technology a century and a half ahead of where they currently are. You even left your jacket in this room while you were off playing superhero. What if someone had taken it while you were gone and examined the tech? What if they succeed in reengineering it? I mean, for Christ’s sake, son, for a soldier who’s supposed to be trained in covert insertions, you’ve been clumsy as all hell. And don’t think I didn’t notice that handcuff you’ve got around your wrist. You’ve been into all kinds of trouble already.”

“None of this means that people should die,” Craig continued to protest. “Just so we can protect the ‘natural history’ of this timeline, whatever that means!”

“Jesus,” Paine grunted in frustration as he pulled out his neutralizer and fired at Craig’s midsection. Craig groaned and doubled over once again. “Doc, they’ve got pictures of the Planck platform. They saw us appear out of nowhere. What if they use those pictures to develop Planck technology? What if they use it to interfere in other universes, just as you have? How would you feel knowing that you’d spread that can of worms throughout the multiverse? Knowing that, because of you, people from another universe could enter ours and manipulate it for their own ends?”

“It’s all what-ifs!” Craig suddenly yelled, exasperated as he struggled to stand. “All of it! You’re willing to kill over 2,000 people because you’re afraid bad things might happen if you don’t?”