Inhuman(34)

Thel, however, made sure there wouldn’t be a second bite. With a hard blow to the back of the head, she rocked the NPC’s skull, causing its body to slacken.

The A.I. shook him off and freed his arms, then scrambled to his feet. He looked up appreciatively and relievedly at Thel, who was still holding the large, muddy rock she’d used as a blunt-force weapon to rescue him. He could see on her face that she was stunned by the damage the NPC had done to him, by the blood that was gushing from the torn flesh where his right cheek was supposed to be.

“Dear God. Are-are you okay?” she asked him.

He stepped closer to her and took the rock from her hands before turning to the nearly motionless NPC. He held the rock above his head, sprung up with his knees, and then brought every ounce of strength he had left in him down hard on top of the figure’s skull, caving it in instantly.

The body twitched slightly for a few seconds, but the NPC was finally finished wreaking havoc.

The A.I. then turned back to Thel as he tossed the rock aside. “I’m feeling a little better already.”

“We’ve gotta get back to James,” Thel urgently exclaimed. “Was he breathing?”

The A.I. nodded. “Very faintly.” He turned to survey their darkened, muddy surroundings. The only perceptible patterns were the random, jagged twists and turns of branches, stripped of leaves by the winter cold, backdropped by a sky that was the darkest shade of gray. “I’m afraid I’ve gotten quite turned around,” he admitted. “What direction?”

Thel was searching for something familiar to trace her route back to James as well. She crouched down like a hunter, looking for the drag marks in the coal-black mud. Her eyes widened when she thought she saw the wide gash and shallow trench left in her wake when the NPC had brutishly and mindlessly dragged her into the small clearing where they now stood. “That way!” she said, springing forward.

The A.I. followed her, but he’d never felt so lost in his life. Thel was only two meters ahead of him at any one time, but he feared that if he lost her, he’d lose her forever and would be left to bleed to death in the dark woods. He desperately pumped his legs, trying to stay on her tail, but the terror that he might lose her and die caused him to recklessly rake his body further against the sharp, low-hanging branches. He held his arms up above his face to shield his eyes from the onslaught of sharp, unforgiving branches and thorns. Every moment, he felt his survival was threatened. He felt humbled. For the first time in ages, he felt merely human.

He sighed with relief when Thel emerged on the rocky embankment where James was still lying on his back, motionless, the rain still pelting his unconscious body.

Thel dropped to her knees and placed her ear to his mouth, then put her hand on his chest. She looked up, relieved. “He’s still breathing.”

“We’ll have to watch him closely,” the A.I. cautioned. “The next forty-eight hours will be very dangerous for him. Any inhalation of water into his lungs could cause pneumonia, infections or heart failure. If only we could—”

“What’s pneumonia?”

The A.I. shook his head. “One of an endless multitude of vulnerabilities in human biology before the post-human era. We’ve been cut down to size here, Thel, cut off from even our most basic abilities. Our core matrix programs are as vulnerable as any other animals in this sim. It’s extremely dangerous.”

“If we’re cut off,” Thel asked, “then how did you know how to get James breathing again? How do you remember...what was it? Momonia?”

“Pneumonia. I seem to have some memories—imprints from my many decades connected to the mainframe, when I had access to virtually all of human knowledge. But I don’t have access to any facts, history, or skills, that are beyond what may or may not have left faint traces of knowledge on my core.” He shook his head and held his hand to his forehead, his wet hair dripping with the nearly freezing rain. “I really have no idea what’s left. It feels like...it feels like most of me is missing. And this entity before you? What is it? Is it me? Is this all I am? A frightened animal?”

“Is that how you see us?” Thel asked, amazed. “You consider humanity to be frightened animals?”

The A.I. narrowed his eyes, surprised that Thel seemed to be taking his comments personally. “I didn’t mean…” He stopped as he questioned himself further. Is it true? Have I been deluding myself, thinking I’m benevolent, when really I’ve felt a sense of superiority? He shook his head. “Of course not. We’re both limited,” he stated. “Neither of us have mind’s eye connections, we can’t fly, and there are no nans in this sim to repair our bodies. I don’t think of post-humans as frightened animals, but being cut down to the size of a Purist is causing me to feel extraordinarily vulnerable, not to mention anxious.”