SL Huang - Up and Coming - Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

Each time I got ready to die, I gripped the medallion, hoping that the next time I did so, Osiris would be standing near me in his chamber. Each time, though, I simply opened my eyes on Earth; no supposed Egyptian gods were staring me in the face.

Nothing changed until I went back. It was fitting, I thought…I went back to Egypt. I found the Nile River and marveled at how civilization had grown up and encompassed all the land surrounding the river. I didn’t know if my plan would work, but I submerged myself in a bend in the river, upstream from Cairo. There was no one else around. Just me. And the medallion. I put it in my mouth and forced myself to swallow river water at the same time.

I felt the water burning my lungs—this wasn’t the first time I’d drowned—and knew the end would be near. I clamped my teeth down on Osiris’ medallion and sank to the bottom of the river. The end would be welcome. I hoped I wouldn’t be back. This was my end—at the place where it all began. My eyes shut for what I hoped was the final time and I let the water take me.

Each time before, the moment from one life to the next was seamless. The soundtrack of life kept playing for me, but I hoped to stop the conductor once and for all.

The rushing water of the Nile was gone. I was dry and naked on the floor of Osiris’ chamber. I felt disappointment ripple through me. I had failed.

I kept my eyes closed, waiting for Osiris to appear. The silence was interminable. I’d lived thousands of years, though, so what was a few more minutes? Any minute, the being I’d once met in the pharaoh’s palace would stroll in and doom me to another cursed life on Earth. Any moment…

But he never came. Minutes had ticked by in my head before I dared open my eyes to find the chamber empty. No clothes lay next to me. There was just me and the chamber. For the first time in hundreds of years, I was completely surprised.

In the moments between lives, I had never left this room. There were doors, but I had never before had the opportunity to discover what lay beyond them.

Now was the time. Now was my moment. Would it end in disaster or victory?

Slowly, purposefully, I sat up and inspected my surroundings, a place I’d been to dozens of times, but only now had free rein to explore. While there were doors, most were false. Placed there to resemble the pharaoh’s palace in Egypt, a place now in ruins on Earth.

But one door did open. One door did lead beyond the confines of the chamber.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought I’d seen everything, but the room I entered was vast. The far wall was barely visible and each empty spot was filled with…me. Hundreds of some sort of cryogenic tubes were lined up end to end, and from inside all of them, the same face stared back. Me.

But the endless amount of Bek clones wasn’t what grabbed my attention. In the middle of the room was a workstation with a table in the middle. A body lay on the table, a bloated, sopping wet version of myself. I recognized the clothing. It was me. The last body I’d had, which I’d drowned in the Nile.

But my head was gone, destroyed in a small explosion.

It had worked after all.

Osiris lay next to the table, his own torso a mangled mess. What I assumed was blood covered the area, but it was a dark green, similar to his skin color. In one hand was the medallion, a little worse for wear after the explosion.

I’d done it. I’d killed him. The tiny explosives I’d implanted into my teeth and jaw had worked.

I was finally free to die.

But…

With hundreds of copies of myself to spare and no master ruling my life…did I even want to die anymore?

Life is composed of pivotal moments. I’d experienced many of them over the centuries—but none of them had been as significant as this one. With Osiris gone, the success or failure of this moment was up to me. I could fail. I could have monumental success. Either way, it was all up to me.

Entirely up to me.

Originally published by Nature

Darak wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow and stole another glance at the ageing clock on the wall. Three hours to go. It might have been bearable if the air conditioner hadn’t broken down again. The thing should have been decommissioned years ago.

Outside the window, Kuala Lumpur blazed ahead at full throttle. Rickety food carts piled with pyramids of ngaw, papaya and durian rushed past, gravel crunching under their wheels. The smell of rich spices and incense from the market stalls fought a losing battle with the billowing black exhaust fumes from the motorcycles and battered auto-rickshaws that weaved through the crowds. Darak coughed, his chest heaving. It was a choice between shutting the window and turning the room into a sauna or choking on the smoke. Not that more pollution would make that much difference.

He stabbed the button on his desk, ushering the next daega inside. It was a woman this time, hair dyed bubblegum blue. The cams tracked her every move as she sat down on the plastic stool, hands folded. This would be a tricky one. Normally, he could guess immediately. This time there were no clues. He had no idea. Not good.

But there was no time to waste. The more of these AIs he cleared the better. His hands hovered over the ash-stained keyboard. “Name?”

“Alisha Kemji,” she said, her voice level and smooth.

“Age?”

“Twenty-five.” She didn’t look it. She looked a lot younger. But no matter, that was her answer.

He rattled through the rest of the standard questions, punching her answers into the system. Where are you from? Which university did you attend? What did you study? The Turing program monitored her vocal frequency and her movements. Nothing escaped it. Darak sneaked another glance at her. Her dark eyes stared back at him. She was unusually calm. Even the heat didn’t seem to bother her. Everyone else he’d seen today had been close to chewing their fingernails off. Darak didn’t blame them. This was the final test. Except this was one test that you didn’t want to pass. Level 4 was bad enough, and would definitely get the CORPS on you. But Level 5…

Personally, he’d had only a few daega who’d passed the test, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for those Level 5 machines. It wasn’t their choice. Wasn’t their fault that the scientists in the labs had been too damn good at their jobs.

The Turing program finished its analysis. Alisha was watching him, a faint smile playing on her face. Darak narrowed his eyes. What was that look about?

The program beeped and he looked at the monitor, his heart starting to throb.

She was a Level 5.

Damn . Her eyes locked with his and he realized that she knew exactly what was on the screen. She’d known even before she’d walked in.

Darak flicked the recorder off. “How long have you known?” he asked.

“Long enough,” she replied, scraping blue hair away from her face.

Darak nodded and leaned back, weary. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Not like he had to ask. Every daega knew what would happen if the Turing program revealed them to be an advanced AI. They walked in here willingly to prove they were no threat, get their Green Card permit and so join the rest of society. They knew the risks.

Alisha, the daega in front of him, nodded, unfazed and smiling.

He reached under the desk for a small yellow button. Two men would come in and escort her to the scrap factory like the thousands before her. She’d never be seen again. “I’m sorry.”

“You might not want to do that,” she said.