turn around. Like scared cattle trying to avoid being rounded up, they turned in each and every direction, massive hulls colliding with one another in a traffic jam in space. Androids scattered like fruit flies from a disturbed trash pile and Old-timer smiled.
He floated into the open, ribcage-like structure of the ship and let James’s coordinates guide him down through the webwork of catwalks. It wasn’t long before he began to feel as though he too, just like James, could sense Neirbo’s presence. He flexed his hands in and out of fists as he prepared to pounce.
Suddenly, Neirbo appeared below him, crossing a catwalk. Old-timer glided above him, stalking his prey for a moment as he prepared to unleash his new body’s abilities. He crossed his arms, keeping them close to his torso so they wouldn’t get into the way, then began to unfurl dozens of tentacles that had been wrapped around his body, dropping them like fishing wire. They dropped down to Neirbo, deftly circling his arms, legs, and neck as he continued to press on, completely unaware of the danger. When Old-timer was ready, they suddenly went rigid, closing tight on their victim, and tugging him upward, up off of the catwalk, twisting him around so that he came eye to eye with Old-timer. “Hi there,” Old-timer said, expressionless. “Remember me?”
Neirbo’s mouth was twisted in horror. “No,” he replied, his voice shaking. “I’ve never met you. You must be making an error.”
“You mean, you don’t
“Perfect,” Old-timer replied.
They dropped down through more of the catwalk network until Old-timer recognized a dark, metallic room. Neirbo recognized it too. He made a terrified noise, but he didn’t beg or plead—he knew better.
The coffin popped out of its place in the ground, and Old-timer used his new, silvery appendages to strap Neirbo down. The drill dropped down from the ceiling, the familiar gleaming tip pointing at Neirbo’s chest. He had never seen it from this vantage point before.
“This will not satisfy you,” Neirbo suddenly uttered, clenching his teeth and flexing his muscles against his restraints defiantly. He prepared his chest for its annihilation by puffing it out proudly, as though it were daring the drill. “You won’t hear a peep.”
For a moment, Old-timer only smiled, but it built itself into a laugh that he couldn’t stifle. “Do you really believe that?” he asked. When his laughter subsided and he could contain his amusement, he placed his hand on Neirbo’s shoulder in a mocking gesture. “Well, son, that’s because you have no idea how much this is gonna hurt.”
The drill started to spin. Old-timer stepped away and watched as Neirbo’s defiance melted away. His chest dropped back, and he recoiled against the coffin as unbridled terror began to pass his lips in the form of a prolonged, guttural scream.
It couldn’t compare to the noise he made when the drill pierced his skin.
Old-timer didn’t smile. He stood in silence, letting the drill teach the lesson.
28
1 was no longer dressed in a flowing, feminine, gossamer gown as she had been earlier—she was now wearing a practical black shirt and matching pants, similar to the clothing worn by the rest of the collective. The soulful, persuasive, seductive eyes were replaced by hard, black pearls. “Do you really think you’re the first of your kind?” 1 asked.
“I assume you’re about to tell me I’m not,” James replied. He stood perfectly still, only paces away. He was close enough to squash her like an insect, yet he held off. The A.I. had preached caution, and James was gathering information about his surroundings as the seconds ticked by. If 1 had a last trick up her sleeve, he had to know what it was before it was unleashed.
“Do you really think that you are special? That no other civilization has ever conceived of the path you are following?” 1’s tone shifted increasingly toward mockery. “Do you see me as a monster? Holding my people hostage—destroying individualism?”
There was nothing worthy of a reply from James, so he remained silent.
“I’ve lived for thousands of years, boy. No matter what you’ve done to your brain, no matter how fast your mind can compute, you’ve not had the experiences I have had. You cannot even imagine what I have seen or the lessons I have learned. None of your mathematical simulations can match that. Only your arrogance leads you to believe they could. How dare you judge me?”
“James,” the A.I. began, conferring to him through James’s mind’s eye so 1 could not hear, “it appears that 1’s strategy may not be one of physical force. Rather, her last stand may be far worse: deception. Do not let her confuse you.”
Although 1 couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, she picked up on a slight movement of James’s eye that told her he was listening. “No doubt your A.I. god is whispering in your ear, telling you not to listen to me— asking you to discount all of my experiences in favor of his impenetrable logic. What he can’t tell you, however, is that he knows the future. However, I can.” She crossed the room toward him now, the dark fury in her eyes softening slightly as she began to sense uncertainty in James—a subtle sway in her hips as she moved to help her persuasiveness. “I can tell you the future because I’ve already seen it in the past. I watched civilizations like yours try to spread your intelligence through space, and I saw the consequences.” She placed her hand boldly on James’s shoulder and gazed deep into his brightly glowing eyes. “They created gods—gods that make your A.I. appear like a helpless bacteria in comparison. Gods whose actions defied the logic of their creators and who turned against all other forms of life. Their creators tried to fight them, but it was a battle they could never win. There are so many unknowns. The gods could slip into other dimensions. They could be everywhere at once and yet nowhere at once, impossible to fight, yet inflicting casualties at their leisure.” 1 leaned forward and whispered into James’s ear. “They ate souls.”
“Do not let her confuse you, James,” the A.I. repeated calmly. James remained silent.
1 withdrew from James and stepped back to her original position in the tiny, metal enclave. “We left our carbon bodies because we had to. We left our carbon-rich solar systems because we were driven out. The only way to escape these monsters is to live a nomadic existence. They cling to life—they surround planets and suckle energies that your young civilization still doesn’t realize exist. The only way to save humanity was to become what we have become.”
Back at the Governing Council headquarters, Thel and the others continued to monitor the exchange between James and 1. 1’s revelations had had the desired effect on the listeners.
“James,” Thel said, “what if she is right?”
“She’s not,” Old-timer suddenly broke in gruffly as he flew through space, back toward Earth after having finished his business. He had been monitoring for several minutes. “Don’t listen to that hogwash, James,” he urged. “All she’s done is lie.”
1 spoke again. “Ask yourself: is preserving the human species your number one priority?” Her eyes were now gorgeously glistening with earnestness. “It is mine. I did not want to become what we are, but given the choice between that and being devoured, I have chosen to live. It is time for you to make your choice now as well. Will you follow the path that leads to your own destruction? Or will you wisely listen to someone who has been down the path and knows where it leads?”
Another moment of silence followed. At headquarters, Thel gripped the railing in front of her so tightly that beads of sweat began to trickle from her fingertips and splash to the floor.
James kept his unblinking, glowing eyes locked on 1. “It sounds as though you have lived a long life, filled with incredible self-sacrifice,” James said.
1’s eyes intensified as she savored James’s acknowledgment of her struggle.
James continued. “Lucky for you, that life is over.”
“No,” 1 whispered in response, disbelieving. “No!” she began to screech as the darkness returned to her
