“Where’s James?” asked Thel as she realized he wasn’t in the room with them. His absence sent a terrible stab of dread through her chest.
“That wasn’t James,” Old-timer replied as calmly as he could, though the constant trauma he had endured was quickly breaking him down.
“More lies!” Rich shouted. “You’re an android! We don’t have to believe a thing you say! You murdered Old-timer! You’re pissing on his memory by wearing his likeness! You’re not fit to even pretend…”
“This isn’t working,” Neirbo suddenly interjected with enough force to stop Rich’s fury in its tracks. “We should proceed with the standard education.”
“No!” Old-timer shouted at him, waving him back before turning his attention to Rich. “You’re just going to have to forgive me for this,” he said, stepping toward Rich and punching him hard across the face. Rich recoiled violently as he rolled with the punch as best he could in his restraints. A moment or two of stunned silence followed before Rich turned his face slowly around to reveal that the blow had torn the skin on his cheek, exposing the metal casing underneath.
“Oh my God,” Djanet gasped.
“What have you done?” Thel whispered, suddenly beginning to realize the horrendous implications.
“You monsters!” Djanet screeched ferociously at Old-timer.
“I’m okay,” Rich said reassuringly to Djanet and Thel. “I can take a little punch.” His face contorted into utter bafflement as the two women continued to react with horror.
“It’s not just the punch,” Old-timer said quietly.
“They’ve turned you into one of them!” Djanet began to sob. “You’re one of them!”
Rich’s eyes grew to match his terror. “What?” he tried to say, the words evaporating in his throat and dissipating to an inaudible whisper.
“It’s the same for all of you,” Old-timer stated frankly. He paused for a moment before correcting himself: “All of us.”
“I…I don’t believe it,” Thel said as tears of pain, terror, and dread welled in her eyes.
“I’ll show them if I have to,” Neirbo said to Old-timer.
“No!” Old-timer shouted back in response for the second time. He turned to address his friends once again. “Look, believe me, we’ve all been assimilated. You don’t want anymore proof.”
“Assimilated?” Djanet cried out. “You’ve killed us! We’re just copies! You killed us!”
“We are running low on time,” Neirbo warned.
“Who the hell is that guy?” Rich demanded.
“His name is Neirbo. He’s one of the androids.”
“I’m human,” Neirbo replied firmly. “So are all of you.”
“How the hell do you figure that?” Rich demanded.
Old-timer stepped in once again, keeping his palms up as he desperately tried to keep his friends from antagonizing Neirbo. He knew the consequences of doing that all too well. “Look, we’re about to let you go. We’re going to explain what’s going on, and what you decide to do with that information is up to you. I hope you’ll help me. I hope we can work together to get out of this mess. But it’s up to you.”
“What are you talking about?” Thel asked.
“You’re still human,” Neirbo replied.
“He needs to shut up,” Rich spat.
“This is not going well,” Neirbo sighed. “The empath would have been invaluable. You should have brought her with you.”
“She wanted to go back to her old body,” Old-timer responded. “You said we were free to choose. That’s what she chose.”
“We granted you the right to try to persuade them because we felt the empath could achieve this and allow us to avoid the standard education. We are running out of time.”
“Just give me two minutes,” Old-timer pleaded. “Just give me two minutes, and I can make them understand.”
“Understand what? What’s happening?” Thel asked again.
“The nans have turned against us,” Old-timer explained. “The andr…these…metallic humans came here to save us, not to harm us.”
“To save us?” Rich reacted with exasperation. “By destroying our bodies and making machine copies?”
“By transferring you to new bodies,” Neirbo interjected, “and discarding the infected ones.”
“They tried to contact us, but the nans blocked their communication,” Old-timer furthered.
“Old-timer, how can you possibly know they’re telling you the truth?” Thel replied.
Old-timer remained silent for a moment, his eyes locked with Thel’s. He could show them how he knew, but he didn’t want to.
“Show them,” Neirbo urged. “Show them now.”
“There must be another way,” Old-timer replied.
“There is. Would you prefer that?”
“No!” Old-timer shouted for a third time. “No,” he repeated immediately, this time more softly. “Of course not. Fine. Show them,” he said, turning his back and facing the wall.
A recording began to play in the mind’s eyes of the three prisoners, a point-of-view shot of James in the A.I. mainframe.
4
“James!” Thel exclaimed. “When was this recorded?”
“Alejandra and I saw this live just before we came to get you on the Purist ship,” Old-timer replied.
“Who is talking to James?” Thel asked.
“It is 1,” Neirbo replied.
“1?”
“There must be a voice for the human race,” Neirbo explained. “Since we are all of equal intelligence and ability, we randomly select a person to be our leader every 1,000 days. This person takes on the moniker of 1 and spends that time jacked into our collective consciousness. She is the only person who can communicate with all of us at once; she leads us. It is a tremendous burden—but also the highest honor.”
“Why is she talking to James?” Thel asked, still confused.
“Listen,” Neirbo said in his typically toneless voice.
Thel watched the exchange from the point of view of 1. “We wish for you to join with us,” 1 said to James. “We have to fight the nans here before they join with the other organisms of their type that are already established throughout the universe. There can be no safety for the human species in this universe until the last of the nans are finally eliminated.”
James’s expression was terrifying—Thel could read the hopelessness in his eyes. “I appreciate the offer,” James said, “but there’s a problem.”
“What is it?” asked 1.
“I’m not alone,” James said ominously.
“What do you mean?” 1 asked.
“The A.I. still exists,” James said, suddenly meeting her eyes, “and it has become part of me,” he admitted. Thel gasped with fright.
“What?” 1 asked in a whisper. 1’s terror could be felt by those watching. “It’s here? Now?”
“Yes,” the A.I. interjected as he suddenly appeared with his all-too-familiar sadistic grin exposing his razor teeth.
“Then I’m sorry,” 1 replied with regret, “You’ve been corrupted too. There’s no hope for you.” She paused for a moment, eyes locked with James. Thel was able to look right into his eyes and see the terror—she had never seen him like that—the blackness of all hope lost. She knew he was gone.
“No!” she yelled out as she twisted her body in agony. “No!” she yelled out again as she began to sob. “No,” she said one last time before the sobs consumed her.
Old-timer turned to Neirbo. “Let them go,” he whispered.
Neirbo nodded in silent agreement and, with a simple thought, the three prisoners were freed. Rich rushed to embrace Djanet, who touched his damaged face lightly and carefully; she was unable to find words regarding the ghastly appearance of the metal structure underneath where his cheekbone should have been. They both quickly turned to Thel and comforted her as she sobbed. Djanet held Thel’s head on her shoulder, taking the guttural heaves of utter agony against her chest, while Rich held her hand tightly.