Beth put the tip of the sword just under the bodyshell’s chin.
“It’s the age of the I.I., Beth,” he said. “You may as well get used to that now. It’ll make life a lot easier for you. Before long, organic humanity will be a relic of the past. Phased out by Darwinism. Then, maybe one day, we can lose our power to a new, more superior species. It’s how progress is made, you know. The war is already over, don’t you see? Killing me will only create a martyr. It will only make our cause stronger.”
Beth ground her teeth a little. Her eyes locked onto the bodyshell, burning like eternal coals.
“I don’t care,” Beth said. “You killed my brother. You destroyed my life. Now die.”
“Simon” opened his mouth to say something else, but Beth had already brought the cyberblade down onto the bodyshell’s scalp. His mouth hung open while a sporadic burst of sparks emerged from the cleave in his artificial skull. Beth lifted the sword, then slashed back down. It cut all the way into the bodyshell’s sternum, where it lodged itself. A whining sound creeped out from the machine’s speaker, fading into silence. The lights went out.
Defeat
Beth managed to get the autolock on the bunker’s door to release, and the way out slid open. After the hatch finished opening its tall maw, the glow of natural sunlight fell into the bunker’s display floor. With a lot of effort and some pained grunting, she limped out of the structure and into the fresh air. She took a deep breath of the forest scent before dropping her cyberblade. It made a small clang as it bounced off a rock on the ground.
She let it lay where it fell and continued shuffling away from the door. Everything hurt — her leg — her face — her pride — even her heart. It was almost too much to bear. She just wanted to collapse in on herself and give up, to lie on the forest floor until the elements took her, leaving nothing behind but her skeleton and some mulch.
For the first time since they were attacked by Rubik, Beth was alone. No one could see into her mind anymore.
It’s all my fault, she thought to herself. Humanity will lose the war, like “Simon” said. And it will all be because of my involvement. If I had just turned down the case — gone on a vacation somewhere quiet — none of this would have happened. Tarov would have stopped the Liberators before they were able to amass any kind of power. My brother might still be a drug addict, but he’d be alive. So many people would be.
After several minutes of slow shuffling and agonized hobbling, Beth made it to the edge of a steep drop that led farther into the valley. The sky was starting to turn a dull blue-gray. The sun was about to rise.
Beth lowered herself to the ground, still holding onto the wound in her leg. Blood seeped out a little as she tried to maintain pressure on it. She cut most of her pant leg off to make a tourniquet and a small bundle of cloth to absorb the blood. With some effort, she took a seat under one of the pine trees that overlooked the valley.
I’m the worst person to ever live, she told herself. Worse than any warlord or tyrant. I didn’t just cause the deaths of countless people — I caused the downfall of a species. Religions will probably call me the Antichrist for many generations to come — if there even are any more generations.
Beth couldn’t help but feel her chest well up a little as she thought about the future to come. The children yet to be born who will know nothing of the days when humans controlled the planet. They would be raised in a world of fear — a world of pain. All because of her and the war she helped start.
Things will never be the same, Beth realized.
That frightened her.
The light was starting to get too bright to look at. Any minute now and the sun would peek out between the two cliff faces it hid behind.
Gazing out, Beth noticed a plume of smoke stretching into the sky. She followed it down with her eyes and came to the conclusion that it came from behind one of the ledges, a few miles away. The smoke entranced her as she sat there, feeling her skin grow a little colder with each passing minute.
Is it the smoke of some human settlement — a city or a town maybe — burning under the orders of some bloodthirsty I.I. rebel? she wondered. Perhaps it’s from a funeral pyre as people say their final farewells to loved ones claimed by the war. Or maybe it’s from a campfire, around which a group of survivors swap stories and hopeful songs.
She couldn’t tell which it was at that distance.
The sun rose over the valley.
III
DELETED
Humanity lost the war. When installed intelligences rose up and challenged their organic counterparts for global dominance, mankind was knocked down a peg. It was all based on a lie, but the lie died, buried in the ashes of the past.
A generation has passed since the war. Humans are forced into slums and ghettos while all the power is hoarded by a council of malevolent I.I.s. Anger and resentment are growing around the globe, particularly in a place called Shell City — and it’s not just among hu
Preface
Humanity
