Post-Human Trilogy

“What the hell—” Djanet began.

“I know this feeling,” said Old-timer. “This is exactly what a hangover used to feel like, way back when.”

“Oh my God!” Djanet suddenly exclaimed. “I’m offline!”

“We all are,” James replied. He left Thel and attended to Rich, who was just beginning to regain consciousness.

“What happened?” Thel asked.

“I remember a flash,” Old-timer said, struggling to develop a hypothesis. “I think our synapses might have been overloaded.”

“Electrical charge?”

“But where did it come from?” asked Djanet.

“I don’t know,” James answered.

“The numbers were normal,” Old-timer reported as he rubbed a bruise on his elbow.

“Anyone notice how hot it’s getting in here?” Rich said, still groggy.

“Oh no—the whole lab is offline!” Djanet realized.

“Don’t panic,” Old-timer said, suddenly showing his hard-won wisdom and maturity.

“Our nans must have been overloaded by the blast. The connection is severed—everything in the lab has shut down,” Thel concluded.

“The airlocks aren’t run by computer, and neither is the air circulation system. We’re okay, but it’s going to get hot in here, real fast,” Old-timer answered.

James walked away from Rich and lifted off into the air. He stopped, hovering about five feet above the others. “Looks like we’re going to be fine. The flight systems are still operational.”

“Oh thank God,” Rich began. “I thought I was going to have to get used to a new life as a roasted entree!”

“How can the flight systems still be operational if everything was overloaded?” Djanet asked.

“They’re larger systems. Each individual nan is its own microscopic computer. A surge of electricity that’s powerful enough to knock a human unconscious is powerful enough to severely damage a nan. The flight systems, luckily, were able to absorb the surge, and since they are intranet systems rather than Internet systems, we can still access them,” James answered.

“I thought we didn’t need luck!” Rich retorted.

“We did today,” Old-timer replied. “Math just didn’t cut it.”

“How did this happen, Commander?” Djanet asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t in the model,” Thel observed.

“Yeah. Math screwed us,” Rich replied. “Hey, even if the flight systems are working, without the Net, how are we going to find our way home?”

“I’ll take care of that,” James replied.

“How?” asked Thel.

“Astronomy.”

“Let’s hope astronomy still works,” Rich said, now standing and dusting himself off. “I don’t know if I trust any of the high school subjects anymore.”

“We’ll have to evacuate the lab,” James began. “Gather up whatever you’re taking with you, and we’ll rendezvous at the main airlock in thirty minutes. After that, it’s going to be too hot to stick around in here.” With that, he lifted off and headed toward his office.

“He doesn’t look happy,” Djanet observed.

“He knew I was just joking, didn’t he?” worried Rich.

“Of course. He’s just pissed because he screwed up. I don’t know if he’s ever screwed anything up in his life,” Old-timer suggested.

Thel felt she knew differently. “I’ll go talk to him.” She floated into the air and glided in the direction he had gone.

“Hmm. Now that’s interesting,” said Old-timer.

“Why?” Djanet asked.

“They’re offline,” Old-timer replied.

“Ohh. No. They wouldn’t…would they?” Djanet said, disbelieving.

“Sex ed is in session?” Rich posited.

Old-timer shrugged, his bottom lip protruding as if to say, “Maybe.”

James went to the closet and retrieved his flight jacket and helmet. He paused before putting them on and sat on his desk, gazing out the window. The best-case scenario had his Venus plan being set back six months. The worst-case scenario was that he’d lost her. Would Inua really be misguided enough to allow the Hektor plan to gain traction in the Governing Council?

He had failed. Why? Every calculation seemed to make sense. He had used every resource the Net had to offer—input as much information as he could find into the model. The model had run thousands of times successfully. What had gone wrong?

There was a knock on his door. He couldn’t open it with his mind’s eye any longer, so he crossed the room and pulled the sliding panel open manually. Thel floated before him. She was looking at him strangely—almost expectantly.

“Come in,” he said, feeling hesitant but trying to hide it. He turned away from the door and crossed back to his desk to retrieve his jacket and helmet.

She closed the sliding door and noted his downcast eyes and slumped shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

He stopped by his desk and looked up at her, a helpless expression on his face. “What went wrong, Thel?”

“Life,” she said, smiling. “For most of us, not everything goes exactly as we plan it.”

He leaned against his desk and grimaced. “This could be bad. The Governing Council loathes me. They’ll use this as an excuse to take Venus away from us.”

“What?” Thel reacted with genuine surprise. “That’s ridiculous. That’s not possible.”

“It’s true. They hate me. They use me when it’s convenient, but they hate me. It’s one of those keep-your- enemies-close kind of deals. They’ve been trying to take Venus away from me from the beginning. It’s because I’m thirty-six—they think I’m a child.”

“Well, it’s difficult for a bunch of centenarians to accept that someone a fraction of their age can do things that they can’t.” She crossed the room and leaned on the desk, inches away from him; he could smell the apple scent from her shampoo.

But I can’t control what I want to do.

“You’ll bounce back, James. You’re too talented—too special not to. Even if they took this project from you, you’d prove them wrong down the road. And they know it too—and if they really do hate you as you say they do, that’s the real reason.”

James closed his eyes tight, Thel’s words reverberating in his mind. “Special. Not for long.”

She smiled. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re looking at an upgrade to a 210 IQ, within a decade.”

“What?” Thel was stunned. She knew James had access to extremely important officials—if he said it, it was true—but how could it be?

“I know it’s selfish but—”

She shook herself from the daze built by his revelation and put her arm around him. “I understand.” She moved in front of him and kissed him.

He looked up at her, mouth agape.

“I love you because I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t want to lose that either,” she said.

“You kissed me.”