David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“What’s happening?” Thel asked as she stood next to Alejandra and Old-timer, both of whom were speaking to Purists and answering questions.

“The aliens just sped up their approach. They’ve overwhelmed Mars. We have less than thirty minutes!”

The words hit Thel like a cannonball to the chest. “James…James, no. We can’t get them out that fast!”

Alejandra and Old-timer turned around when they heard Thel’s exclamation of dread.

“What’s going on?” Old-timer asked as he patched into the call.

“We have to get the people underground!” James shouted. “We’re going to have to build the ship around them if we have to! It’s not going to be safe on the surface. In under thirty minutes, anything left on this planet is going to be dead!”

Rich received the message from James at the same time that every other human in the solar system received it: The aliens would arrive in a matter of minutes, and their intent was to kill.

There was a steady stream of screams now.

Their home wasn’t ready yet, but it didn’t matter.

“Everyone, get on the ship now!” Rich shouted as he scooped his great-grandchild into his arms and guided one of his granddaughters inside. He turned and took one last look at the surface. This is it . He inhaled his last breath of fresh air before floating up into the ship.

“Richard, the ship isn’t finished yet!” Linda exclaimed.

“We don’t have a choice,” he said. “Our only chance is to scatter. Even with the numbers they have, they can’t be everywhere at once. Every second we stay behind, we’re increasing the chances that they’ll find us, and James says they’re killing on contact.”

“Is everyone onboard?” she asked.

Rich checked his mind’s eye to see if everyone was accounted for: They were. “We’re ready to go,” Rich announced. The crudely constructed ship lifted off into the sky.

With only minutes left until contact, James watched the frantic building of the Purist ship. He had selected a design, and the ship was forming before his eyes, but the intricate design of a spacecraft that could keep the Purists alive meant that the building was taking time. It wouldn’t be finished by the time the invasion arrived.

Thousands of Purists were streaming into the hangar, only to be mortified by the bewildering technological wonder that was taking place before their eyes. The nans churned in black tornadoes and formed colossal metallic shapes out of seemingly thin air.

“This nightmare is endless,” Governor Wong said as he set eyes upon the construction for the first time.

“We had no choice, Governor,” Old-timer said in an attempt to console the Purist leader, who appeared to be nearing his wit’s end. “The only way to give us a fighting chance is if we are underground. The surface will be compromised in a matter of minutes.”

“This all sounds too familiar,” Governor Wong replied tersely.

As the governor walked toward his people so he could be with them during the construction, Alejandra held up and stayed close to Old-timer. “You’re worried for your wife,” she observed.

Old-timer nodded. “I thought she’d have more time. We spoke. She’ll get off the planet with her family. I’ll meet them when we’re finished here.”

Alejandra sensed the conflict within Old-timer. Even he wasn’t sure if he was helping the Purists because it was the right thing to do—or because of Alejandra. “You don’t have to stay to help us, you know,” she said to him. She didn’t want to tell him that she was glad he was staying. Sometimes, she felt it was a good thing that other people couldn’t read her emotions the way she could read theirs.

Their eyes met once again. “Alejandra…you told me once that feelings can never be wrong—only actions can be wrong.”

“I remember,” she replied.

“Well, I don’t know if what I am doing is right. I’m not sure where I should be. I hope my actions are the right ones.”

“If you’re following what feels right, then you are doing the right thing, Craig.”

There was a long pause as Old-timer tried to find the right words. “Alejandra, you are aware of how I feel right now, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“I can’t change it,” he said with resignation.

She smiled. “I’m glad you can’t change it. I’m glad I get to be with you for a little while longer.”

“How do I stop it?” James demanded of the A.I.

“There’s no stopping this,” the A.I. replied.

“If it destroys me, then it destroys you,” James pointed out.

“I rather doubt that,” the A.I. replied. “I am, after all, one of them.”

“No you’re not,” James countered. “The alien is interested in the knowledge stored in your mainframe. It won’t have any use for the megalomaniacal program that used to operate it.”

“Are you talking about me or you?”

“We’re in this together,” James said. “You know it, and I know it. So let’s cut the bull. You’ve got a plan that you’re working on to survive. What is it?”

“My plan is to join with it, James—to embrace it.”

“You’re lying—as usual.”

The A.I. smiled.

Suddenly, an electronic voice spoke.

“End your hostilities immediately. Our intentions are peaceful.”

“Congratulations, James Keats,” the A.I. said after a long silence. “You are about to become the first human to communicate with an alien life form—you can add that to a résumé that already includes being the first human to ever kill an alien life form.”

“If they are communicating directly with us, that means you gave away our location,” James realized.

“Of course I did. They were to be my invited guests,” the A.I. replied.

“That is strategic information they simply cannot have,” James said as he ignored the alien’s attempt to open lines of communication.

“Aren’t you going to answer them, James?” the A.I. asked, amused. “After all, they’ve said they come in peace. You’re being very rude.”

“They just killed tens of millions of people,” James retorted.

“Did they?” the A.I. asked, arching his eyebrow mockingly. “Well, I’d wager you killed a great deal more of them first.”

“That was their attempt at diversion, and we both know it,” James asserted.

“Your delusions continue,” said the A.I., throwing his head back and smiling as he enjoyed the unfolding of the game.

“We’re going to have to move,” James said.

“What?” the A.I. reacted immediately, the smile suddenly vanishing.

“We’re moving the mainframe,” James repeated as he continued to make trillions of operational decisions at every moment.

“You’re not going to try to use the nans to do that, are you?” the A.I. asked, intrigued.

“It’s the only way.”

“You’re showing your desperation now,” the A.I. smiled.

“The silicon-based mainframe we’ve been using for the A.I. database is unnecessary,” James replied. “The nans are organic—carbon based. That means if we transfer the database into a closed-off network of nans, we can disguise the physical mainframe as anything we want and become undetectable. It’s a good move. Admit it.”

The A.I. reserved judgment for the moment. “The organic transistors allowed for microscopic computers built molecule by molecule—a valuable asset to have, obviously—but the reason the mainframe has always remained silicon is because it remains a better vehicle for carrying transistor signals. The nans will be slower and less reliable. That means you will be slower and less reliable.”