Immortality (75 page)

“I’d never do that!” said Carl.

“I know,” said Mark, “But it’s time for everyone to leave this place. We’ve done as much as we can. It’s up to the federal government now. They’re either going to make peace or drop bombs.”

Carl looked angry. His forehead was furled with deep wrinkles as his eyes stared off into some distant place. Mark could tell there was a conflict going on inside that head. He wondered if Carl had told him everything.

“Under the best of conditions it may not be easy for certain people to escape from this military garrison. We all have to leave before they completely take the option of leaving away from me and Sarah,” said Mark. “All of us are on borrowed time here. The kill zones are hitting the same places, and that means we’re on the short list for several more, and probably sooner rather than later. Sarah thinks one is coming and I believe her. I’m starting to get the same intuition that one’s overdue; and maybe with it, something else is coming that’s just as bad. This may sound egotistical, but if I can’t save what’s left of the world by convincing our government to try peace, then I have to save any small parts that I can.”

“How do you know you can save anyone?” asked Kathy.

“You have to trust me,” said Mark. “Every hour I’m learning more about how to interact with the god-machine. I have access to strategy maps showing where kill zones have hit and where more are planned; I just don’t know when. I can use those maps to avoid the hot zones and guide us all out of danger. I know I can find a place that’ll be safe until this ends; and it will end one way or the other. I have to leave, Kathy – and I want you to go with me.”

Kathy hugged him, first weakly, then with increasing strength. He felt her crying against his chest. He closed his eyes. He’d been feeling stronger about her with each passing day, and this day was no different. He was still human. His emotions were more poignant than at any time he could remember; and that confirmed to him that while his brain was becoming part machine, his soul was not.

“I trust you,” whispered Kathy.

He felt Carl’s hand on his back.

“I’m going,” said Carl. “There’s nothing left here. In another few days, almost everyone will be gone anyway. My family’s gone. There’s no reason for me to stay. I’ll take my chances with you folks.”

~

Mark, Kathy, and Carl were planning their next move in hushed voices. They didn’t want any of part of the conversation to be overheard. While they all agreed Mark and Sarah were not under immediate risk of being arrested, if their plans leaked to the military, they would all likely be detained on the spot. After a lengthy discussion, Sarah was called into the meeting. She’d been anything but silent. She’d come into the office looking agitated. Once she’d found out what they were planning, her entire mood had changed. She was animated about pulling up stakes and leaving.

“How can we warn everyone without risking arrest?” asked Sarah.

“We can’t leave without warning them,” said Kathy.

“I’m not saying we should skip out on them. I’m just asking how,” said Sarah.

“We can meet with people one on one,” said Mark. “Just conversations. Feel them out. Nothing that’ll draw attention.”

“They’re not going to believe what we tell them,” said Sarah. “How do we get them to trust us?”

“We can’t,” said Carl. “People who already trust us will be easier to convince. Those who don’t trust us or can’t be trusted won’t believe us anyway; or worse, they’ll cause trouble.”

“You’re right,” said Mark. “I don’t like saying it, but with some people, it’s a lost cause. We’re going to have to use triage. It’s a matter of survival. We can talk quietly with people we trust and warn the others after we leave. As soon as we’re gone, we can send a mass e-mail, and include all our proof that a kill zone is going to hit, and tell them where it’ll be safe. Agreed?”

Everyone agreed. Next, they put together a script. They’d work as a single team and make discreet visits to people starting immediately. Mark noticed Sarah staring at him very intently. As he looked away, a sphere of memory was there at the surface of his mind with the now familiar glow of her presence. He focused on the sphere until it opened. The memory capsule contained a single thought captured from Sarah’s internal dialog, “
Anyone who joins us could die along the way… Kathy? Carl?
” Mark stared at Sarah for several seconds unable to grapple with what she’d sent him. He almost answered her by speaking aloud but then stopped. Was she suggesting they should try to escape alone? He focused on encapsulating his thoughts and sent them to her so she could – in effect – read a small part of his mind. He had no intention of leaving Kathy behind. Sarah smiled.

“Did you tell them about Alexander?” asked Sarah.

“Who’s Alexander?” asked Kathy.

~

They’d spent half the day talking with people who were closely trusted by either Kathy or Carl. They didn’t discuss Alexander. They’d kept things focused and spoke only about kill zones. Everyone had listened and asked questions, but Mark saw they were not making believers out of any of them. Everyone they spoke with had prior fears and stresses which made it very hard for them to take in new information. Mark was feeling his own frustrations growing as he sensed an increasing amount of distrust directed toward him and Sarah. The entire idea of warning or taking people with them was beginning to seem naive.

They had just shut an office door and taken three more people into their confidence. A married couple name Paul and Louise were both medical doctors, and their office neighbor Jena was a mechanical engineer. Jena was nerdy and quiet. Paul and Louise were both outspoken.

Mark could see Kathy was growing desperate to convince someone to join their exodus, or as they’d agreed to call it, ‘the evacuation plan.’ Mark wondered if she was really trying to convince herself and not her friends. Everyone was seated except Sarah, who had said nothing during the past two meetings and had become increasingly withdrawn.

“To be brutally honest, we’ve all heard the rumors about you and Sarah and these neural alterations,” said Paul. “We‘ve seen the medical images. There’s no denying something very mysterious is happening in your brain. But some of your claims are just not possible. You say you’ve healed yourself and can predict where kill zones will hit. How can you ask us to gamble our lives on those kinds of wild claims? How do we know you won’t blindly lead us, with the best of intentions, into a catastrophe?”

“I’m not asking anyone to follow me,” said Mark. “But you’re got to leave before…”

There was a soft moan from behind him. Mark turned and saw Sarah. Pain was written all over her face. At her side, a folding knife was dangling loosely in her fingers. The blade clattered to the floor. She’d cut her palm open across the lifeline. Blood was dripping all over her fingers. She held up her ruined hand with the palm facing out.

“This is how you know,” she said.

“Nice” said Paul. “Now, we know you’re crazy!”

“You wanted proof,” said Sarah. “This hurt more than I’d thought. I’m not doing it again. So watch closely.”

“I know what she’s trying,” said Mark. “Just give her a chance.”

Sarah picked up a wad of tissues and squeezed it in her fist, to stem the flow of blood. The room was silent. Mark looked from face to face and saw that Sarah’s dramatics might just work. No one took their eyes off her hand. They all appeared fascinated and revolted; which was a powerful emotional cocktail. An
assist,
triggered by his intense interest in what was going on, projected a medical schematic over Sarah. He saw COBIC swarming like an infection into the wound site.

After a few minutes, Sarah removed the wad of tissue and picked out a few remaining bits. She held out her hand. The cut had stopped bleeding. There was a deep gash, but the walls of the cut were now sealed. Mark was no medical doctor, but he knew something that nasty should have still been bleeding. Paul picked up her hand to examine it.

“May I,” he said.

Sarah nodded. Paul applied some spreading pressure on the wound’s edges, trying to open it. Sarah squinted in pain. The injury remained sealed. Louise came and stared as Paul continued to manipulate the wound. Jena moved closer.

“This is incredible,” said Paul. “This should be bleeding like a faucet! We should be on our way to the infirmary to get some stitches on it.”

“It will take a few days to completely heal,” said Mark. “Within twelve hours, the cut will be a thick scar. In a day, the scar will look old. In a couple of days, it will be the faint scar of a childhood wound; and then it will be gone.”

“Okay,” said Paul. “I believe you, but you’d better promise me this is for real. You promise me that you can see when kill zones are coming and where they’ve been. You promise me that my wife will be safe.”

“I can promise staying here is not an option if you want to live,” said Mark. “And I can promise to lead you to a place safe from kill zones, but I can’t promise bad things won’t happen along the way. I can’t see the future, but I can see the god-machine’s plans and they’re not good for this place.”

In that moment, three new people had joined the exodus; and Mark felt the weight on him growing heavier. He prayed he wouldn’t fail these people along the way. He was confident that he could do what he’d said. Up until this moment, there had been good, logical reasons to believe he could lead people to safety. But now he knew he’d be put to the test with even more people; and that somehow changed everything. He and Sarah had to run. Kathy and Carl were going with them, no matter what; but these people were new and they were choosing to come, out of free will. They had options and had decided to look to him. For Mark, there could no longer be any gap between knowing what he could do in theory and having enough faith in himself to accomplish it. In accepting responsibility for the safety of these people, he’d taken a step into a roll from which there was no turning back.

The meeting in a secured situation room in the heart of the Pentagon was an hour old. McKafferty felt time was being wasted when they should be acting. The country needed protection, not hot air. The aides to the chairmen of the military were present at the meeting. The chairmen themselves, the President, and his advisors were all teleconferenced in from various airborne command posts.

A recording of McKafferty’s recent meeting with the BVMC lab personnel was being replayed. Mark Freedman was speaking. McKafferty had heard this recording so many times that most of it was committed to memory; but still each time he heard the scientist’s words, he was more convinced than ever that Freedman was a traitor. The good doctor was working to protect the god-machine. His treason might not be voluntary, but how could anyone doubt where his sympathies lie? If the medical projections were accurate, it wouldn’t be long before Freedman’s brain was a hundred percent artificial. He was being transformed into their enemy right before their eyes, and half these fools were blind to it. The President’s advisors had been siding with Freedman and urging caution. The recording was droning on about making peace with the god-machine and how the super colony could not be destroyed without hurting mankind. The tape was nearing a part that illustrated how unreliable Freedman had become. McKafferty turned up the volume just a notch to make sure everyone was listening.

“
So I understand you believe this thing is ancient technology?” said McKafferty’s recorded voice. “Are we talking about legends of Atlantis? How old is it? A hundred years? A thousand years?”

“
Try over two hundred millions years,” said Freedman.

“
That’s impossible. There were no humans alive then.”

“
Who said it was created by humans?”

McKafferty paused the recording. Some of the military people were shaking their heads. Freedman had just hung himself with his own recorded words. For all McKafferty knew, the Nobel Laureate might have been telling the truth, but McKafferty knew how this sounded to desperate political animals locked in airborne prisons. They would not stake their political and physical lives – or the country – on a man talking like that. McKafferty stood up and walked to within a few feet of the video camera. His ugly visage filled the screen. He was determined to make sure his message was driven home with the force of a sledge hammer.

“Mr. President,” said McKafferty. “Time is running out. The NSA has been analyzing data flowing across the nanotech’s wireless web. They have found a nexus, a location in a deep pacific trench where the flows converge. Four days ago, submarines were deployed for close quarters ELINT surveillance. Consensus is that we’ve located the core of the web and that this core is the central nervous system of our enemy. The NSA is convinced, BARDCOM scientists are convinced, and I am convinced that we have located the super colony. The submarines conducting surveillance are attack-class boats carrying full weapon’s complements; Air Force weapons can be on target in less than an hour. Right now, we have the power to destroy our enemy with overwhelming force; I am talking about a massive strike using EMP nuclear weapons. Yes, there are risks. You’ve heard what the CDC experts think. They cannot predict what will happen when this bastard’s decapitated. They say we could be killed by its death throes or our children could be born retarded without the influence of some unidentified intelligence factor. No one can accurately predict what will happen when we free ourselves from these mind-control chains, but I can predict what will happen if we do not. The genocide will continue and the enslavement will continue. I believe its goal is a world full of robot-humans like our illustrious Dr. Freedman. Its goal is nothing less than global domination.”

McKafferty pressed a button which displayed his battle plan overlaid on a world map. Ground-zero was a crosshair in the Pacific, ringed by submarines and overflow by Air force bombers. Fanning out from ground-zero were color coded markings which designated various levels of risk from the machine if it managed to retaliate before being neutralized, or if its death convulsions proved dangerous. The plan was displayed split screen, with McKafferty’s face covering the other half.