David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“Good,” Aldous replied, remaining in his super soldier garb, his prosthetic arm still ripped in half. “Craig and I will take care of that momentarily.”

“You are thirty seconds from reaching your destination,” the A.I. noted.

Craig and Aldous streaked toward the illuminated dome together, guided automatically toward a colossal aircraft-receiving door that slid open for them at the A.I.’s command. They maneuvered through the heliport, down to a series of hallways and doorways at a speed that peeled Craig’s eyelids back in disbelief—there was no way a human could maneuver through such tight confines at that speed. “Quite a ride,” he said, his mouth dry.

“Don’t worry. He won’t drop you,” Aldous replied, his trademark confidence as intact as ever.

As the duo emerged from the hangar structure into the wide open space of the dome, the newly reconstructed White House emerged.

“I’m opening the armored security shutters on the windows,” the A.I. informed. “Arrival in five seconds.”

Craig took a deep breath as the window went from a small dot in the distance to filling up his entire field of vision before shattering apart with the force of their entry, the A.I. barely slowing their approach until the last moment.

Then, suddenly, the A.I. let them go. “You have arrived at your destination.”

“No kidding,” Craig replied as he and Aldous lowered themselves to the ground, their protective cocoons casting a green glow that illuminated the entire room in a light that caused Morgan to squint as he knelt on the ground and shielded himself with his outstretched arms.

When they let down their protective fields, the A.I. turned the lights in the room back on, leaving the trio to share an eerie moment of silence. Morgan hesitantly stood to his feet, looking first at Aldous and then at Craig.

“I-I recognize you,” he said. “You’re the fellow with the A.I. inside him.” Morgan’s face suddenly fell as he made a realization. “Where’s Colonel Paine?”

“ Was the fellow,” Craig replied, “and Paine’s dead.”

“Dear God,” Morgan whispered. “What is this?”

“Progress , ” Aldous interjected.

Morgan peered at the strange figure for several moments, cocking his head to the side and stepping toward him, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Gibson? Is that you?”

Aldous smiled silently in return.

“Oh my God. What have you done to yourself?” Morgan asked as he stepped back in fear.

“Just trying out some of your Purist technology—walking a mile in a super soldier’s shoes. Not to worry. It’s all reversible.”

“You’re a lunatic,” Morgan whispered as he shook his head and continued to step back.

“Oh look…the kettle is black,” Aldous seethed through gritted teeth before pouncing on Morgan, using his remaining arm to grasp the mortal around the back of his neck. Morgan called out in pain as Aldous roughly hoisted him into the air and pointed his face in the direction of Craig. “Anything you’d like to say to the former President, Craig?”

Craig stared at the man for a moment in a state of near-bewilderment. He’d seen Morgan thousands of times on television screens and even gone into battle at his order, and yet he’d never met the man. Somehow, Morgan’s power had always been invisible—godlike—gripping everything in Craig’s life, yet it seemed as though he wasn’t really there—as though he wasn’t even human. Now, there he was, only two meters in front of Craig, helpless as a child—helpless as a human.

“Billions of people are dead because of the decisions you made,” Craig said in a low voice.

“Billions are alive because of them too!” Morgan shot back. “Please, please don’t trust this man!”

Craig’s eyes narrowed as he listened to the desperate pleas of the world’s former most powerful man.

“I know you think he’s good. I know you think he’s right, but he’s not. He’s the madman we’ve always feared. He’s the reason we did all of this! We were trying to keep him and men like him from building the tools to destroy our species!”

“You’re full of—”

“It’s not about power for me!” Morgan shouted. “It’s always been about the survival of our species! I’ve spent my life trying to protect us! Don’t trust this man! Gibson will kill us all! His reckless pursuit of immortality and god-building will be the end of humanity! Please! Help me!”

A moment passed.

“What do you say, Craig?” Aldous asked, his face deadly serious. “You alone have the power to stop me. Which world do you want? His or ours?”

Craig stood silent for a moment. Aldous was right. Craig had him at a disadvantage. He could neutralize his cybernetic prosthetics and summarily squash him like a bug. He could hand the world back to Morgan who could, in turn, utilize the A.I. to continue the world as it had been ever since the end of WWIII.

It wasn’t really a choice at all.

Craig nodded before turning his back and stepping away.

Morgan’s screams began almost immediately, followed soon after by the sound of Aldous’s hand spinning drill-like once again. Craig shut his eyes as the sound of the drill motor began to groan, struggling to generate the torque needed to spin inside Morgan’s body. The screams didn’t last long.

Craig turned back and watched Aldous exact his revenge for the death of Samantha. The expression Aldous wore seemed more like a mask; the muscles contorted to extremes Craig wouldn’t have imagined possible, to extremes that made the famous scientist appear deranged. As Aldous dropped Morgan’s body and huffed and puffed in a desperate attempt to gain control of his breathing, Craig slipped Paine’s ocular implant out of his pocket and regarded it one final time. He suddenly remembered words he’d once read somewhere: An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind .

“I’ve had enough of this,” he said to the A.I. “Take me home.”

“As you wish,” the A.I. replied.

Craig stood outside the giant doors at the A.I. Governing Council headquarters, marvelling at the vaulting ceilings and the pillars of light that streamed into the circular building. He’d never been to the headquarters before and felt out of place, like a country bumpkin in the big city. It was a big step for him: He’d been out of the loop for a long, long time, convalescing, in a sense, in Texas with Daniella. He’d watched from the sidelines as the world changed dramatically, and now he was ready to join back in.

He indicated his arrival with his mind’s eye, and the doors to Aldous Gibson’s office opened automatically, allowing Craig a view inside of the spectacular, sprawling room. “Wow,” he whispered as he crossed the chrome floor toward Aldous’s desk.

The chief of the governing council was already coming out from behind the desk with a smile on his face and his hand—his biological one—outstretched in greeting. “It’s been far too long, my friend.”

“Yeah,” Craig replied. “Last time I saw you, you looked a lot different.”

Aldous laughed and shook his head. “Yes. That was something, wasn’t it? It took days to grow my limbs back after that. The nans have come a long way since then. Please,” Aldous said, pointing to the chair, “have a seat.”

“Thanks,” Craig replied as he lowered himself into the luxurious chair while he watched Aldous slide back into his spot behind his desk.

“We should’ve had this meeting long ago,” Aldous noted.

Craig nodded. “Yeah. Well, it’s taken me a long time to be ready to reenter the world.”

“Yes. I saw you were in Texas. You married that doctor—”