Inhuman(5)

“Neither have I,” the A.I. replied. “However, we both know that it’s possible to hide a pattern if it’s divided and kept in small enough portions.”

“That would explain how she avoided my detection,” James returned, “but it doesn’t explain how she’s still calling the shots. If her pattern is in pieces, then she’d be dormant. This was clearly a plan initiated by her, but we should’ve been able to detect her if she’s currently conscious and operating.”

“As I warned you before your last confrontation with her, she’s not to be underestimated. She’s a far more worthy foe than we previously realized.”

James nodded. “She is.”

“Still, attempting to destroy the mainframe and the Earth along with it, had no chance of success,” the A.I. began, his tone ponderous. “She would’ve known that we’d detect it and thwart it.”

“That’s not entirely true,” James countered. “She may have counted on me tagging along with our diplomatic mission. She may have gambled that my body is the only means we have of detecting space-time distortions, and with me too far away to protect Earth—”

“I think it is now you, who is grasping at straws. It’s highly unlikely that she wouldn’t have assumed that I also have the ability to detect space-time distortions. James, the fact that we’re both trying so hard to make sense out of these behaviors is extremely disconcerting. Her motivations for trying so desperately to destroy this solar system elude me.”

James nodded in agreement. “It doesn’t seem to make sense. With all of our vast ability to calculate probability, still, 1’s bizarre strategy has us on the defensive. As I said, we’re missing crucial information. We have to be on guard until that information is uncovered.”

“This makes Richard’s and Djanet’s diplomatic mission all the more important. It may provide us with the clues we need to start piecing together this puzzle.”

“Yeah,” James replied. “Speaking of, they’re almost there. Time to refocus our attention. Keep your eyes peeled and your ear to the ground.”

The A.I. nodded. “Indeed.”





3



“Rich, how’s it looking over there, pal?” James asked via his mind’s eye connection to his longtime friend and fellow terraformer.

Rich Borges sat at the front of the ship he and Djanet were piloting toward an android armada of ships that was so gigantic, its collective mass generated gravity that drew them in like a tractor beam. The ship they were closing in on at that moment completely filled their front view screen, and Rich’s repulsed expression mirrored the revulsion he felt in his gut as he observed the monstrosity in front of them. The ships reminded Rich of pictures he’d seen of cancerous tumors in the days before nans, when humans were subject to the whims of chance and their random personal genetic codes. Like a cancer, the ships didn’t appear designed; there was no holistic vision. Rather, they were simply masses in space, malignant structures that spread out in every direction—long, ragged, jutting structures sometimes extending like metallic rivers for dozens of kilometers in a myriad of directions. There was no symmetry or beauty; just a dreadful arbitrariness that increased the feeling of despair that neither Rich nor Djanet could shake off.

“It looks like…Hell,” Rich replied.

“I understand. It’s not pretty,” James answered. “I appreciate you guys volunteering for this.”

“Yeah,” Rich replied, “and that’s a decision I almost immediately regretted. The last time I saw these guys, even though it technically never happened, they turned me into a robot, so you know, this is…awkward.”

“The memory is real,” James answered, “so your concerns are understandable. That’s why I designed the craft you’re in to be a fortress. If they’ve scanned you, they know you can do severe damage to them if they behave hostilely. That should act as a deterrent.”

“Unless they squash us before we can use the weapons,” Rich countered.

“I’ve got control of the ship’s weapons. If they try to harm you, they won’t be around long enough to regret it.”

Rich considered the image of the ship’s weapons blasting a gaping hole into the side of the android ship in his mind and decided it was comforting enough to persuade him to continue with the mission. “Thank you, Commander.”

“We’re docking now, James,” Djanet informed him as the ship entered through one of the openings in the android ship’s demented architecture. “We’ll check in when we’ve reached the landing platform.”