Serene oblivion

Submitted into Contest #120 in response to: Start your story with the line ‘Back in my day…’... view prompt

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Science Fiction

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

"Back in my day, we did not need bionics to do these things, I tell ya!" the squeaky voice made Anne jerk out of her daydreaming stance. 

Wait. Where was she? She did not recognize the place. How did she get here?

"And take my word, the world was a better place for it!" continued the voice that she could now assign to a scrawny, wrinkled man.

She rubbed her eyes. Her mind felt clouded as if she was looking at the world through a thick, milky glass. She was in some kind of a... bar? 

It was a very crowded room with dozens of people milling around, chatting and laughing. In the background, she heard a myriad of voices singing to a cheerful tune of a high-pitched instrument.

She realized something was very wrong with these humans as she studied the dry, rumpled skin of the man standing a few meters away. It took her a while to recognize the condition. Old age. She frowned. But looking around, she realized all of these people were still wearing their soft bodies.

What was this place? 

She blinked, and after a second, the information flooded her brain again.

She was on a mission, of course. The most important one in her career yet. How could she forget? 

She checked her overlays, but there was nothing unusual. Actually, everything seemed to be going according to the plan. She was at the target position, at the right time and place, but still... She felt somewhat... disturbed. Slightly puzzled by the sensation, she made a note to check for updates once she was in the network's reach again. 

But for now, there was not much else to do except focus on the task at hand.

Sighing, she adjusted her overlay settings and scanned through the dimly lit hall. The large room, reeking of stale beer and sweat, was packed with customers in the late evening hours. Not all of them were elderly, though. I fact, the majority was around her age. They seemed to know each other well but were thankfully too busy to pay Anne any attention. She tried to blend in, listening to conversations as she waited.

After a while, she got frustrated with the occupation. Despite being in the very heart of the resistance, she failed to gather any useful information. It was not an error on her part. The people came here just to drink and complain about their lives, it seemed.

It was the first rebellion infrastructure Anne's unit accomplished to localize while still in use. This room, as well as the previously abandoned buildings, did not exist. Well, on the map, at least. Her overlays indicated she was in the middle of a concrete panel at the side of an old maintenance tunnel long out of order. She got to admit, the place was hidden well.

She abandoned the line of thoughts as her readings alerted her to a man's figure, wearing a metallic body. He was facing away from her, walking to the other side of the room. His ancient steel and carbon 02 model matched the one of her suspect, and in the crowd of soft bodies, stood out to her like a sore thumb. She was surprised to see it remained fully functional even though it was technically vintage. Her AI even marked multiple upgrades, it did not recognize. 

She followed him but had difficulty keeping up. She noticed people were stepping out of his way. Some patted him on the back or even exchanged a few words with him as he passed. For a terrorist, he sure was popular with this crowd.

Then he turned around, allowing Anne a clear vision of his face. She recognized the man before the readings did. 

"Check." She muttered under her breath. Mission complete, resistance leader localized.

But then something unexpected happened.

The AI overrode her command. 

And fired. 

***

Fade saw the motion out of the corner of his eye even before the screams erupted. Out of habit, he initiated a security scan. It was a paranoid habit of his that undoubtfully was the reason he was still alive. And once again, it has proven to be useful. 

His stomach dropped. Mere feet away, one of Goodwills latest models stood amidst the crowd. It had a woman's form, tall, with dark hair tied back into a ponytail. Was it just his imagination, or did she resemble her? He frowned. Did Goodwill develop some twisted sense of humor?

Quickly, he adapted his overlays, activating the shields and converting his bio into attack mode. Then, fully prepared to charge the enemy, he hesitated. 

The bio stood just a dozen meters away, holding one arm stretched out towards him, a large metallic spike protruding out of the center of its palm. But it did not let it fly. On the contrary, it seemed that the piece of metal was melting back into its body. 

What the hell? 

Fade stood there perplexed, watching the creature retrieve its weapon completely, restoring the impression of a perfectly smooth human skin. It was breathing heavily, almost shaking, and he was surprised to find tears in its eyes. Fade followed its gaze, and as the fleeing people cleared the room between them, he saw what it fixated on. It was a body of a young woman, not older than twenty, perhaps. She lay unmoving on the ground, a large titanium spike sticking out of her neck. Bright red blood was gushing out of the wound and pooling around her head.

Before Fade could decide to fire the EMP, the bio in front of him collapsed. Without a second thought, he rushed forward, kneeled at its side, and sliced open the metallic cover on the back of its neck. He quickly found the small CPU in the mess of muscles and cords. And tugged. 

  ***

Anne awoke suddenly. She felt strange. Not bad exactly, but very, very different. Her mind was sharp and somehow more focused in the presence than she felt... in years perhaps. Also, her body felt distinct. It was the same titanium model she had been wearing now for years. But yet, she could feel each twitch of her muscles, follow every heartbeat, each connection between nerves and wires was uncovered, available to her mind. She felt powerful.

"It feels better, doesn't it?" a deep, throaty voice carried from across the room. Anne jolted, her eyes flashing open, instantly recognizing the other person in the room. She jumped out of bed as the images from before flashed in her mind. The memory of the young woman was still fresh in her memory.

But she was the one to attack her, not him. Or was it really her who did it? She was not so sure anymore.

"I'm Fade, "he said, seemingly unfazed by her reaction. He nodded his chin towards the bed. "You may want to sit back down." 

She frowned at him and checked her overlays. No warnings sprang at her this time.

Who was this man?

In his ancient bio, sitting backward on a chair, he did not seem threatening at all. And yet, there was an air of confidence around him. Authority, of the kind that you could not either enforce or fake. No, this was a man respected and trusted by people, the type of leader one chose to follow. And she found herself wanting to trust him as well.

So she lowered her guard and seated herself back at the edge of the moldy mattress.

"What is your name?" he asked, his gaze focused on a piece of wire, which he turned and twirled around in his hand.

"Anne," she croaked. 

"Nice to meet you, Anne," He smiled at her, but it was a bitter, sad smile. "I am sorry, but there has been a mistake."

  ***

My mistake, he wanted to tell her. But he discovered long ago that admitting the truth would not help anyone. People needed to have faith in someone, and sometimes, they could find it in him. So he let them have it.

He held up the tangle of cables in his fingers for her to see. "Your AI had an error." as all of them do.

"Don't worry. I replaced it with a new version."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she turned the information around in her head. "It attacked you," her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "But the girl got in the way."

"Yes," he said simply. There was no point in denying it.

"Why?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"I can't be sure as it happened only once before," the night he removed his own CPU in a moment of lucidity. And suffered an attack from his own wife. "But well… My guess is, my facial recognition triggers some sort of self-preservation protocol."

She blinked. "Yes, but why would it do that?"

"Because I tried to kill it." and failed. He took a deep breath.

"Tell me, Anne," he continued before she had a chance to speak. "Can you recall the last time you felt as alert as today?" 

Her confused expression was enough to prompt him to continue. "Or a time you tasted the food you ate?"

She was silent for a moment, her brows pinched together, thinking. "Before my transformation," she whispered, surprised by her own words.

He nodded as a sorrowful look stretched on his face "Anne, the AI does not work as intended. Instead of aiding you, it becomes you and puts your mind asleep."

Silence.

"Is it like this for everyone?" she asked after a moment.

He did not meet her eyes as he said it. "Yes, I am afraid so."

"Oh God!" she buried her face in her hand, then jumped out of bed and started pacing around the room, running fingers through her already messy hair. Fade's eyes traced her frantic steps, not sure what to do or say. 

Suddenly, she stopped, giving him a wide-eyed look. "You just said you repaired my AI by yourself, right? Can't you fix them all? Update them or something?"

He sighed. Unfortunately, he did not possess the answer to that question. But then again, who was he to take people's hope, right? So he mastered his brightest smile and looked her in the eye. "With your help, Anne, I just might. "

  ***

The plan was simple enough. Get inside, use the kill keys and reboot the system. Easy, right? 

Wrong.

He should have known something was amiss when the alarm didn't go off. It did not start when Anne opened the plated door with the fake security card he provided. It did not blare when he jumped out of the ventilation shaft and jogged towards her down the hall. He has been fully prepared to sprint the short distance, throw himself to the ground and slide underneath the closing door. But no, there seemed to be no need for that. 

He tugged at the hem of his hood as they waited for the sheets of metal to click back into place. It was silly. Goodwill would know it was him the second he walked into a camera frame. But didn't he already?

He reached up and undid the few screws holding the plating at the side of the door. After a quick assessment, he cut the cable connecting it to the source, and the green light above the exit went out with a satisfying click. 

They were in. He let go of the breath he did not know he was holding and took a look around the massive server hall. 

The only light source came from the tiny bulbs blinking on the high rows of computers, stretching to the distance on each side. The soft humming noise carried in the stuffy air reminded him of the days spent working there on his life's dream. Their dream. 

The second passed, and his body tensed up again. The silence unnerved him. 

Fade hoped they would be able to get this far, but he did expect at least some level of difficulty. It went way too smoothly. He was sure of it. 

It's a trap. His subconsciousness seemed to whisper to him, making his hair stand on end. 

He sighed. Even if his instinct was right, they could not just turn back that easily as he just effectively disabled the only exit out of the room. He knew for that to be true, as he was the one to design the place that way. It was out of safety reasons, of course. But now, immobilizing the door seemed to be a reasonable method to prevent intervention from outside. 

Anne was standing at his side. Her stance was stiff, betraying her agitation. But her shoulders were set square, her eyes bright and focused, scanning the surroundings. Well, at least one of us was trained for this. He jerked his head to one side, and they started moving together along the endless shelves. 

He found himself navigating the place as easily as if he had never left it. Relief washed over him once he saw the small display at its location. Uninvited, hope flared in his chest. Maybe they could do this after all.

He unzipped his suit quickly, taking the two kill keys out of his pocket and tossing one to Anne. She nodded her head at him and backtracked slowly the way they came. He turned and went the other way.

As he previously explained to her, there were two dents for the keys, carefully hidden in the surface of two machines, stationed some fifty feet apart. It was crucial for the keys to be inserted and turned at the same time. 

He found the small crack, covered by a thick layer of dust. He brushed it away with his thumb and found Anne doing the same at her post. Their eyes locked. He nodded, sticking the key in.

"Three, two, one." his whisper carried in the stagnant air.

Click.

The omnipotent buzzing noise continued, unfazed by the terminating protocol.

He cursed under his breath and ran back to the monitor, tapping at it frantically. The screen remained black.

Clap, clap, clap.

He turned to see a silhouette of a woman emerge at the end of the row. It was her. Dread raised in his stomach.

"Congratulations! "the sweet voice he once fell in love with remarked dryly. "You really would have done it. Destroyed, all we ever worked for. " her high heels clicked softly on the concrete ground as she carried herself unhurriedly down the hall.

An overpowering sense of Deja vu rushed over him as the first spike flew their way. But unlike the other night, it was deflected by Anne's EM shield as she stood in between the two of them. It took Emily by surprise. She halted, narrowing her eyes at him. 

Yes, that one he was particularly proud of. 

But there was no time for chit-chatting. Fade raced his mind through the list of options but came to the same conclusion as each time before. There was none. 

Anne charged towards Emily, the two metallic bodies clashing together, sprays of sparks flying away from where they cut through each other's skin. 

Anne was buying him time. 

But time to do what?

There was literally nothing he could do to reprogram Goodwill. Without stopping the AI, he would not be able to operate it. 

Then, an idea occurred to him. Maybe he got it all wrong. Perhaps, he did not need to correct Goodwill manually. It would probably update automatically if he just...

He took the screwdriver out again but this time focused on the small plate covering his left wrist. It came away quickly, revealing the long-forgotten connector for a line cord he used to introduce the AI in the first place. He fished out a fitting cable from the mess of wires exiting the back of the nearest machine and took one final glance at the woman he loved. She was beautiful, just as he remembered. Her movements were graceful, even now, fiercely fighting an opponent. He looked into her eyes and found them dead inside.

That was all the prompt he needed to bury the cable in his arm. 

His vision went blank.

  ***

They were always wondering if Goodwill could preserve or even upload a consciousness in its entirety. Technically, the supercomputer had the processor and data power to execute the procedure while still supporting millions of bio users worldwide. But after a few faltering animal experiments, the evidence to support the theory was still lacking. At the time, they decided to put the project aside for it being too risky.

Now, however, she found herself wishing they pursued the idea. Then, perhaps, she would know if her husband was still… well, not alive exactly, yet there in a way. Removed from the boundaries of a physical body, his mind finally expanded to its fullest potential.

But perhaps, it was better this way; she thought as she felt the wet tears stream down her face. This way, she could hope.

Emily ignored the girl, watching her movements cautiously as she crossed the short distance to him. She picked up the discarded screwdriver at his feet and proceeded to remove the plating on her hand just as he did before her. 

She glanced down at Fades's limp body. His eyes were dull and staring into the distance. However, his expression was relaxed. He seemed peaceful, content even, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Maybe this is not the end. She thought as she seated herself next to her husband and pressed her head down onto his chest. Perhaps it's all just the beginning. 

Inhaling the familiar scent of his body, she connected herself to the network, joining him in the unknown.


November 19, 2021 19:17

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