P Hillard - The Teller of Lies

“Well, do it then,” Michael said. “You think I’m one of your builders, then follow my orders and let them go.”

“Request declined. Insufficient clearance level.” The machine at the centre of the mass of tubing shifted its weight. The tubes pulsed in response, pumping their morbid liquid through the machine.

It was too much for Michael. He hated this thing, what it stood for, what it was doing. It was all just so horrific. Destroying worlds and claiming their populations to fuel its twisted interpretation of its programming. The revelation it was planning on creating a bastardised machine people was just the icing on a cake baked of nightmares and death. He surged forward, his metal hands raised, intending to strike at the machine.

He froze, his feet not moving, his arms above his head. He felt trapped, locked inside his own body. Something was stopping him, preventing him from moving forward.

“Hostile intent detected. Engaging safety measures,” the machine said.

It made sense. Why transfer Michael into this body and allow him to walk around freely if he was a danger. Michael wished the Unmind had just placed him into one of its stasis canisters, it seemed a lot more humane a fate than what it had inflicted.

Michael stumbled as he felt the control release, the Unmind clear it had made its point. He felt the urge to pant in panic, despite not having a mouth or lungs. His mind was still wired for a human body and for a second Michael felt like he was choking as he realised, he wasn’t breathing.

As he turned what served as his head, struggling to shake free the thought from his mind, he caught a glimpse of something at the far side of the chamber. It was a hazy thing, a faint outline of a person running towards them. As it grew close, Michael thought he recognised it.

Clive was close enough now to make out the figures. The one glowing blue was Michael. He had turned towards Clive, which was strange. Clive wasn’t entirely sure how Michael had gotten here; let alone how he could see him. Clive could see something else, within Michael’s form. A kind of shadow lingering inside it, copying his movements. A faint trace of red behind Michael’s face answered Clive’s questions. It was a machine, one hosting Michael’s mind. It wasn’t a huge leap to assume the nanomachines had done something like this to Michael, the signal coming from the planet-sized ship had been focused in a tight beam on the station. It was how Clive had managed to get here.

Before Michael was something that Clive couldn’t quite grasp. It was enormous this close but seemed to lack a set form. It was a swirling mass of light, a cascading glowing storm. It had a shape, vaguely, one of a large glob covered in tentacles. It shifted and changed with each new moment, never staying the same, its alterations subtle and almost imperceptible.

Within the storm was a single larger glow, it shifted, twisting towards Clive. He had been seen.

“System intrusion detected,” it said. “Calculating invasion source.”

“Clive?” Michael said. “What the hell are you doing here? I can’t quite see you properly.”

“I’m only here digitally. This thing tried to hijack the Sword. It failed thanks to some things I learnt from the Custodian, but it opened the door for me to hit back. I’m sorry, Michael. I wasn’t able to protect you. Whatever this is must have shut down my nanobots.” Clive didn’t know if Michael could see the look of apology on his face. “I’m assuming it has transferred you into some kind of mechanical body?”

“Failure to identify intrusion. Attempting to purge program.”

“That’s a good guess, how did you manage that?” Michael said.

“I only exist here inside the network. That would be the only way you could see me. I can almost see it, the shell it’s put you in.” Clive walked around Michael in a circle, examining his digital body. “Ok, I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”

“Purge unsuccessful. Intruder not installed on this network.”

“Well, let’s hear it then, how screwed am I?” Michael turned to look at the furious crimson storm.

“Well, I do think I can get you back into your body. The longer I’m in here, the more familiar I’m getting with the control signal. I can swap you back. The downside is I don’t think we can ever remove the nanobots if I do that. What this thing has done to you is… imperfect. There’s a lot of file bloat, a ton of added crap not normally in your mind.” Clive crouched to look up at Michael like he was inspecting a car. “You’ll need the bots to act as extra storage, basically.”

“Fine, anything is better than this.”

“Detecting signal source. Hostile ship detected. Attempting to sever signal. Failure. System locked.”

“What is this thing?” Clive said. “Is it this installation’s Custodian?”

“Yeah. This is the Unmind, or well, it’s core. I think it’s… broken? It thinks it’s following the original purpose of the planet. It thinks this is what the people who built it wanted,” Michael said.

“Maybe it is? Maybe the Custodian is the one who is broken? Who’s to say?”

“System locked. Error. Error.”

“Are you doing this to it?” Michael said.

“Yes. Now I’m so close to it I can… feel the thing. It’s software, it’s systems. It’s rage. It doesn’t like me being here.” Clive placed his hand on Michael, the light shimmering as he did. Michael could feel a sense of warmth, of comfort.

“You’re doing well, considering well, you aren’t designed for this.”

“Yeah. It’s the Sword, something about it just lets me, be more me. Does that make sense? This thing is constrained, a machine, a tool. It doesn’t truly think. It feels, but it doesn’t know how to process those feelings. That’s another way the Custodian differs, he knows how to feel.” Clive shrugged, motes of light shaking off his digital shape. “Maybe that’s the way it goes, with us AI. We have a choice I guess, learn to live, or give up and just become the tools we were made to be. I chose to live. Watching you and the others, it gives me hope.”

“Don’t you start. I’ve got more than enough people fawning over me.”

“You know I was programmed to spread the Rhythm. It’s a creed. A whole faith just plugged into me ready to be believed wholesale regardless if I wanted to or not.”

“Honestly?” Michael said. “That’s how it works with organics as well. These things tend to get thrust onto you by your parents. But like you said. You’ve chosen to live your own life. What do you believe now?”

“I’m not sure. It’s comforting to think there’s a cosmic meaning to everything. That even the pain leads to an ultimate good. The universe seems so dark otherwise.” Clive twisted his hand inside Michael, turning at an invisible cog. “But on the other hand, that means you have no free will, really. If that’s the case, are we any different from this thing? From just being tools of the cosmos? I don’t know if I like that either. How do you know which one to choose?”

Michael let out a small laugh. “That, my friend is the great human question. You might be one of us after all.”

“Good to hear it. Let’s send you home.”

Clive removed his hand, and Michael faded, his consciousness sent flying across the void. Clive allowed himself a smile at a job well done, then turned to face the roiling maelstrom of lights. It had expanded itself, drawing itself up in a failed attempt to be imposing.

“Now, let’s deal with you.”

The dreadnought was dead, Abberax knew that. She was nearly powerless, her guns silenced, her engines failing. A valiant attempt had been made to complete its mission, but the Unmind fleet was just too large, too powerful. A single ship had battered the dreadnought, and whilst the Substrate warship had emerged victorious, the swift reinforcements had avenged their fallen brother. Energy pulses had rained down on the dreadnought, cracking the stone and rupturing large sections of the hull. The emergency shutdowns had kicked in as the main antimatter line tore, preventing the ship from exploding in a violent uncontrolled reaction.