Post-Human Trilogy

Ismay collapsed to the ground, never having known what hit him.

Craig’s teeth clenched furiously as he struggled against the right prosthetic arm of the super soldier before it tossed him to the ground, just two meters in front of the Planck platform.

“On your knees!” Drummey shouted.

Craig struggled to move his legs, which were numb thanks to the effects of the neutralizer blasts. “You—you can’t let them do this,” Craig said. “You’re supposed to protect the innocent.”

“Shut up,” Drummey replied before shooting Craig with his neutralizer once again.

Craig groaned as the MTF shimmied next to his spine, the vibrations causing severe spasms in his back and legs.

The A.I.’s image suddenly appeared in Craig’s mind’s eye. “Listen to me, Craig. There will be no reasoning with these people. The passengers on the Titanic are lost.”

“I can’t let them die,” Craig replied weakly.

“Shut up,” Drummey repeated. “The colonel won’t let me kill you, but I swear to God that I’ll shoot you in the most painful place I can think of if you speak again.”

“He will shoot you, Craig,” the A.I. Confirmed, “and they will remove your MTF implant in a most gruesome manner. The only reason they haven’t already removed it is because Colonel Paine truly hoped to be able to reason with you and spare you the excruciating pain, but his patience has reached its end. Craig, you have to escape. I’m wirelessly reprogramming the Purists’ Planck platform as we speak. Although I cannot change the course we are on, I can activate the device early and take us into the next universe.”

Craig couldn’t respond verbally, so he shook his head instead.

“What was that?” Drummey asked. “You communicating to your rider?”

“Can I speak now?”

“Of course you can, Goddamnit! If I speak to you, you answer!”

“Yes, it’s speaking to me.”

“Stop doing that. If you speak to it again, I’ll shoot you.”

“What happened to the post-humans at their facility?” Craig demanded, risking his mortal safety to do so. “Are they prisoners?”

Drummey smiled. “We didn’t take prisoners. We’ve got one VIP alive, and the rest are dead.”

Craig’s mouth fell open as his lips pulled back into a horrified expression.

“Craig,” the A.I. informed, “there’s a 97 percent chance he’s telling the truth.”

“Is the VIP you have…is it Samantha Gibson?”

Drummey shook his head and chuckled. “Your ex-wife? Nah. She’s dead. The colonel cut that pretty little head clean off.”

Craig began shaking as his chest heaved. He was having difficulty breathing as the shock of hearing of his wife’s demise quickly overwhelmed him.

“There is a 99 percent chance of truthfulness, Craig. I am sorry,” the A.I. said.

“You’re all upset right now,” Drummey said, still grinning, “but think about it, bro. Really, the colonel did you a favor. You were married to the most dangerous woman alive. Disloyal to her country, to her species, and to you.”

“You need to keep calm, Craig,” the A.I. urgently warned. “Your heart rate is accelerating, but if you act rashly now, you’ll not only hurt yourself, but you will endanger the future as well.”

Drummey watched Craig’s fury boiling and suddenly lifted his rifle, resting it casually on his shoulder, amused. “You seriously think you’d have a chance, big fella? If I let you out of those cuffs and gave you the first punch, you think you’d be able to knock me out? Huh? You want to try that?”

“Craig!” the A.I. shouted. “He’ll beat you until you’re close to dead—and post-humans do not die easily. You must remain calm. If you don’t, Samantha will have died for nothing.”

Samantha…dead. The words brought Craig back from the brink of insanity. If it were true—if she were dead—then she gave her life for a reason. Craig bowed his head obediently, abandoning his challenge.

“That’s what I thought,” Drummey scoffed, feeling victorious.

Craig stepped to the Planck platform and knelt, keeping his head bowed. Drummey grinned. “Good boy. Now you just stay hushed there, ya hear? Let the grownups do their work, and then we’ll be right with you.” He chuckled.

“Excellent work, Craig,” the A.I. said, a tone of relief in his voice. “I’m initiating the Planck effect. Brace yourself. We’ll be in Universe 332 momentarily.”

Craig looked up at the ship he’d helped save and was now abandoning. He’d never felt like such a coward in his life. He closed his eyes and waited for the next horror to appear.

A second later, Drummey was left looking at the empty space where his prisoner and his ride home once were. “Uh oh,” he whispered. He wasn’t looking forward to informing the colonel.

PART 3

1

Aldous watched as the powder in the 3D printer slowly dropped in the tray, the binding material being added by the carriage one layer at a time.

“Even if these forgeries pass a cursory visual examination,” Lindholm began to point out as he reentered the room and handed Aldous a paper cup filled with cold water, “and even if we leave them in the resin for hours, they won’t have anywhere near the strength of the real ones.”

“I’m aware,” Aldous replied as he sipped the water. “I’ll do my best to ensure they aren’t put up against the genuine article.”

“You know,” Lindholm noted as he leaned against the wall adjacent to the bulky industrial printer, “for a man who’s spent his life questing for immortality, you seem rather determined to commit suicide.”

Aldous lightly shook his head, continuing to stare at the carriage’s rhythmic movements. “I’ll have the advantage,” he said. “They won’t be expecting this.”

“No,” Lindholm observed, “because, as I said, it’s certainly unexpected from a man who values life the way you do.”

“The way I did,” Aldous corrected. “There are some people who don’t deserve to live, my friend. I learned that lesson too late. It cost me my wife. I won’t make that mistake again.”

2

“Goddamnit!” Craig shouted as he sprang to his feet and stepped off the Planck platform and onto the gravel rooftop, storming furiously, but aimlessly away. “Goddamn it to Hell!”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the A.I. began, “but we have—”

“You have no idea what you’re saying you’re sorry for!” Craig shouted. “You have no goddamn idea what I’ve lost! You’re a machine! Goddamnit! I’m in Hell! Get me out of this Hell!”

“Craig,” the A.I. replied calmly, “your MTF generator is back online, and we need to find a more secure location immediately. Brace yourself.”

Instantly, Craig was encapsulated in his green cocoon once again, as the A.I. took over the flight systems and quickly scooped him into the air, then flew him down into an alley shaded from the brilliant morning sunshine