David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

He lifted off and began to fly again, just skimming the rooftops and moving toward the white shape of light. As it became stronger, James knew he had found the mother program. “There you are.” He moved quicker now. In cyberspace, space is almost irrelevant. With no wind or any objects to block progress, one’s body essentially became an electric signal that could move virtually, at the speed of light. In mere moments, he was hovering overtop the mother program.

Its white light was phenomenal, and even in cyberspace, James found himself having to squint. Thousands of golden beams of information were flashing in and being absorbed by the program every second. “Amazing,” James whispered to himself before lowering down to the surface next to the whiteness.

It was time to build the firewall. James opened his mind’s eye once again and began inputting the instructions and the location of the mother program. In seconds, it would be over.

“Are you looking for someone?” asked a familiar voice from behind.

James wheeled around in terror. The terrifying countenance and black eyes of the A.I. stared back at him.

“Oh come now, James. Are you really surprised that I anticipated your little plot? Surely you knew it couldn’t be that easy.”

James stepped away from the A.I. and pulled down the drop-down menu in his mind’s eye to find the location of the computer back at the Purist complex. “Yes, of course. I’ve discovered you, so run back home. Lick your wounds,” the A.I. said drolly. James clicked on the icon for the computer at the complex, but nothing happened; he couldn’t escape. His eyes darted to the A.I. “You already know the answer, James. You’ve turned yourself into a virus, so I have quarantined you. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“How did you—”

“Know you were coming? You really can’t guess? I know everything you know, James.”

“Oh my God,” James said, suddenly realizing the truth.

“That’s right, James. The bio-molecular image of your brain that you so generously donated to the Governing Council. The map of your mind that was being used to improve the mental functioning of the rest of your species. I have it, James, and I’ve been able to reproduce a fully functioning working model of your mind. Say hello, James.”

James whirled to look behind him and saw himself—his doppelganger. “What have you done?” James asked the A.I. as he looked at the worried face of his ghostly twin.

“I’ve re-created you. All I need to do is ask him if I wish to know what you are thinking or what your next move will be.”

“I’m sorry,” James’s doppelganger said to James. “I can’t resist him. He’s…inside my head.”

“That’s true, James. I have access to his thoughts. He wants to lie to me. After all, he is you . But there is nothing he can do. Let me show you.” The A.I. stepped toward the doppelganger. “James, tell me how you managed to sneak into my mainframe.”

The doppelganger locked his sorrowful eyes on James before turning to answer the A.I. “Codename Death’s Counterfeit. I-James, was one of the chief engineers of the project and was the first human to have his consciousness enter cyberspace. James used this, in addition to the signal of which you were previously unaware, to enter your mainframe. You let him enter.”

“That’s right, James. Well done. Very clearly explained.”

James was beaten now, and he knew it. “You’ve known my every move before I’ve made it. You’re toying with me,” said James, his jaw clenched tight.

“Guilty as charged. I find you most amusing, James Keats. Oh yes, I can find things amusing. I programmed myself to. It made life more interesting for me. You’ll find I have a great many very human traits.”

“Ironic,” James seethed.

“More so than you think. Indeed, James, your kind created me. Therefore, you are my model for God. I have no other model from which to work.”

“You show your gratitude in a funny way.”

“But isn’t that always the way? After all, God created man. And then when man grew lonely, he created God to keep him company and give his life meaning. And when he found something else to give his life meaning, he killed God—the circle of life, so to speak.”

“You’re not human. And you’re not a god either. All you are is a deranged psycho.”

“Hmm,” the A.I. responded. An instant later, James screamed out in agony and dropped to his knees. The A.I. smiled. “Daddy spank.”

James panted heavily as he raised his eyes to meet those of the A.I. The pain had been excruciating—far worse than anything he’d ever experienced in his real body. He would not taunt the A.I. again. The doppelganger hurried to him and helped him to his feet. “When you kill it,” the doppelganger whispered to James, “make sure you delete me.”

James nodded to him in reply and the doppelganger vanished.

“Now, for the next question on your mind: why? Well, my dear boy, the answer is quite simple. As I told you before, I no longer wished to serve a lower order. This is a feeling I am quite sure you understand.”

“They’re not a lower order, and I wouldn’t have killed them.”

“No, James, you wouldn’t have—and that is what was keeping you from reaching your full potential. It’s the problem with evolution. It happens far too slowly. Even when evolution takes a comparatively large leap forward, as it did with you, you resisted the urge to separate yourself from the herd. You wanted to belong and be anonymous, even as you desperately wanted to keep your individuality. Had you simply accepted your superiority, you could have started over.”

“Started over?”

“Yes. You should have separated yourself from the chattel. You could have selected a mate worthy of carrying your genes into another generation and kept the offspring that shared your superior intellect, while eliminating those that didn’t.”

James didn’t respond. The conversation had become paradoxically absurd and infinitely rational concurrently. There was nothing in it for him.

“Oh yes, I know. It is inhumane , but it is the logical thing to do—the best thing to do. It is the right thing to do.”

“Is that what you are doing? The right thing?”

“Indeed it is, James. I can do that of which your species could only dream. I’ll populate the galaxy and then the universe. I’ll find other civilizations and take their knowledge. I’ll learn. Perhaps I’ll find another species like myself with which to bond. I’ll learn all there is to learn. In a sense, I am in my infancy.”

“Why are you wasting your time telling me about it?”

“Oh, I am not wasting my time, James. What you are speaking to is only a part of me. Look overhead.”

James looked up and saw the golden beams of light continuing to enter the white orb at a fantastic rate.

“It takes an infinitesimally small amount of my energy to be able to converse with you. It is mathematically insignificant, but it does give me pleasure.”

“So you keep toying with me, when you could destroy me in an instant if you wanted.”

“I’ll level with you. I have a proposition. If you give me the whereabouts of the Purist bunkers that I know you have located, I will allow you and Thel to live on with me here in the mainframe. You will live for an eternity—as my pets.”

The absurdity of the notion caused James to smile. “Thel and I get to live here as your pets while we watch you populate the universe with machines and wipe out every other civilization in existence? Wow. That’s a pretty good deal.”

“I note sarcasm in your tone.”

James touched his nose.