“Einstein’s IQ was never measured,” James began, carrying on the conversation with the observers on Earth in the same manner an experienced concert pianist can converse with his audience while playing a masterpiece. “It couldn’t be. Who could be intelligent enough to write a test to measure the mind of the world’s smartest man? Yet we can speculate that it may have been in the 200 to 220 range. Brilliant, yet it was only fifty to seventy points higher than the average PhD in his time. With the amount of extra brain connections he had, linking his mathematical genius with the visual center of his brain and his imagination, he was able to undo hundreds of years of physics. He gave us the universal speed limit of light, black holes, and told us time travel was possible. Now, imagine if his IQ had not been 200, but 300. Then imagine 1,000. Then 10,000. What might be seen by such a mind?”
“And what’s your current intelligence, Commander Keats?” Chief Gibson asked.
“Much higher, sir,” James replied. Without missing a beat, he addressed Old-timer. “I found the pattern of your target, Old-timer. If you follow my coordinates, you’ll find him.”
Old-timer grinned. “Thanks, ol’ buddy.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy.”
Old-timer slipped into a wormhole and vanished. Almost immediately, James found his target. “I have located 1’s pattern. I am going in.”
“James,” the A.I. suddenly broke in, “be careful, my son. Remember, although you have considerable power, the being you are about to confront has considerable power too. We do not know how old she is or what abilities she possesses. As long as there are unknowns, the outcome is uncertain.”
“What about embracing unknowns?” James pointed out.
“That does not mean proceeding carelessly,” the A.I. replied.
James nodded. “I understand. I’ll proceed with caution.”
Thel was about to speak, but the words caught in her throat as the fear closed in. Before anything could pass her lips, James had disappeared into a wormhole. When he emerged an instant later, 1 stood waiting.
27
Old-timer floated above the massive structure of one of the android ships, the carnage James had unleashed unfolding behind him in a spectacular display as the body of the collective was driven back by an invisible force. The ships that had not impacted with the blockade were now, seeing the danger ahead, desperately trying to 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 know why you’re here? Why I’ve trapped you? You can’t understand why I’d want to hurt you?”
Neirbo suddenly knew. He looked into Old-timer’s eyes—a man he had never seen before in his life—and it was as though he were looking into a mirror. “Oh no,” he whispered.
“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.”