NEW SCI-FI THRILLER NOVEL "SEAGORA" - SLICE 12

Cactus gives Setarcos insight into The SeAgora's past, as well as his own.

Setarcos and Cactus stood silently.  It was early morning, with a mild breeze and plenty of sun sparkling off the surface of the Pacific.  They stood on a platform at the surface, just having come up from the bottom of “The Pit”.  Before them was an ancient looking sailing vessel, a 44-foot yacht with no technology from the past 50 years on board.  It was made of a defunct material called fiberglass, had a small gasoline fueled motor, and manual navigation tools.  Not to mention actually using what amounted to nothing more than a big sheet to use the wind for propulsion.  It was the most primitive boat Setarcos had ever seen.

“Welcome to The Moneybit,” Cactus said proudly.    

He looked at it with a healthy dose of skepticism.  “We’re going on that thing?”

Cactus gave a wily smile, “And you’re going to help me manage it.”

“It doesn’t even have a computer? Not one?”

Cactus grinned even wider, “It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” He slapped the boy on the back and climbed eagerly into the ship.    

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Things consistently go wrong in this world.  Haven’t you learned that yet?”

“But I mean, with no computer, or...”

“Then we’ll fix it ourselves.  Come on.”

Setarcos unfolded his spindly arms and climbed in.  Cactus showed the boy how to prep the boat for departure, making sure all of the basic equipment was in good working order.  They checked the wind direction, set the sails, and got in position behind the wheel.  The invisible force-field tie that held it in place released its grip, and they were on their way.   

After lazily breezing through calm waters for a bit, Cactus asked how he liked the feeling of the ship.    

Setarcos gave mixed reviews.  “I think it’s great, for a novelty, but I can’t believe you came into the SeAgora with this thing! You were living on this thing out in the middle of the ocean?” Setarcos looked absolutely mortified at the thought.    

“It was the beginning of the SeAgora.  It was just a dozen people, a few boats, and the will to succeed.”

“But why? It seems like such a monstrous task with a huge chance of failure.  Why take such a risk?”

Cactus thought about it for a moment.  His hands caressed the wheel and he soaked in the sun with pleasure.  Yes, why? The all important question of why? The question that so few people ask, and even less take the time to answer truly.

“It was our best shot at freedom.”

“That simple?”

Cactus looked him straight in the eye, “That simple.”

“Who did you come with? Were you alone?”

Cactus turned grim.  “No, certainly not,” he said sourly.  

A cloud passed and momentarily blotted out the sun.    

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that.  What’s wrong?”

“The people I came with, they’re both gone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll bite my tongue.”

Cactus blinked harshly.  A flood of memories raced through his mind.  His impossibly socially awkward friend and sidekick K, whose technical prowess had helped fight against the state and build the SeAgora.  He could still see his old chalk-white pal playing Atari and listening to 80s pop music.   He was the quintessential hacker and programmer extraordinaire, and he was also the creator of Symphy.  He deserved a much better fate than the bitter ending he’d received.    

Then there was Miss Moneybit.  Her long, light brown hair brushed his memories and tickled his face.  She was his best friend for many years, and later in their relationship, they became much more than just friends.  She had helped expose the crimes of the state online in social media spheres and news blogs.  He saw her smile and felt her charmingly sharp personality.

“Symphy was here,” he finally struggled to murmur.    

Setarcos looked on attentively.  Cactus drew a deep breath and folded his arms, “And my friend K, and my girlfriend, a wonderfully marvelous and mysterious creature called Miss Moneybit.”

Setarcos stayed silent and kept his eyes fixed on the old man.  Cactus continued, “Well, don’t you want to know what happened to them?”

Setarcos reacted a bit jittery, “Well, I don’t want to pry.”

“I never talk about it.  The only one that knows is Symphy, so pretty please, don’t tell anyone about this, ok?”

Setarcos nodded sadly.    

“At the beginning of the SeAgora, it was a strictly kept secret.  We did a marvelous job of keeping things incognito for years.  Eventually, some of the governments found out about us.”

Setarcos cut in as a one meter wave rocked them gently, “But there are only two governments on land, aren’t there?”

Cactus groaned and leaned back in his seasoned captain’s chair.  “There used to be hundreds of governments, or mafias with fancy titles, as I prefer to call them.  They tried to eliminate us quietly.  By the time they mounted their attacks, however, we were suitably large enough and had good enough methods in place to survive and safeguard ourselves, which is why it exists today.”

He paused and shook his head slowly as the boat rocked with a larger wave.  “But not everybody survived.  They mounted some successful attacks.  Miss Moneybit and K were killed, and I was a fraction of a second too late to save them.”

“How were they killed?”

“Shot in the back with lead bullets.”

“And who killed them?”

A brief shivering memory invaded Cactus’s consciousness.  That harsh stone face that he would never forget, glaring at him mockingly before diving and disappearing to safety in the dark waters and darker night.  “I only saw his face for a fleeting moment as he escaped.  I shot at him in haste, but like I said, was too late.”

He continued somberly, “I’ve been a wretched recluse ever since.”

Setarcos felt strange.  What could he say to that? The man had lost the love of his life and a friend.  And he’d narrowly missed saving them.  The internal torment must have been unbearable.  Now he knew why this old man was so damned bitter towards most people.  He grimaced, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“I know that dammit!” Cactus lashed out.  “But I can never escape the ‘what if’ or ‘what might have been’, you know?”

“I can’t imagine.”

Cactus looked his young companion harshly in the eyes, “You’re not to tell a soul, remember?”

“Of course.”  Setarcos turned and admired the dazzling orange wisps in the sky.  This was accompanied by a seemingly endless torrent of scintillating reflections from the ancient sea.  It never got old, no matter how many times he saw it.  He thought about Cactus and how Symphy fit into his dramatic past.  “Can I ask you another question?”

“You just did.”

“You said you’ve known Symphy for 50 years.  So where did you meet her?”

“K created her.” He paused and smiled for a moment.  “He originally created her as a companion, because he was painfully shy and socially awkward, and as an assistant as well.  She has grown into much more than that.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Symphy knows the difference between right and wrong, just like the other synths in the SeAgora.  Why don’t the synths on land have the same knowledge?”

Cactus admired the poignant question.  The boy was always asking why, which was immensely important.  “It’s really quite simple.  Symphy’s original programming, at her core, was given to her by K.  This core included the basic knowledge of right and wrong behavior and why it is so essential to life and creation itself.  On the other hand, synths created by governments decades ago never received such information in their programming.  As time went on, Symphy and other synths in the SeAgora created other synths with the same knowledge.  This knowledge has never been programmed into or accepted by synths on land.”

Setarcos pondered internally how different the world might be if synths, and more people, of course, held that same knowledge.  Cactus broke up his daydream, “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Such enthusiasm.”  Cactus set the tiller and they went below deck.  “You like tomato soup and grilled cheese?”

Setarcos wrinkled his nose and shrugged.  Cactus said, “Don’t tell me you don’t know what they are.”

“I know what soup is, of course, but I’ve never had tomato soup, or a grilled cheese.”

“Are you feeling adventurous enough to try them?”

“Sure, I’ll give it a shot.”

Cactus fired up an old propane burner and got to work on lunch.    

“Did I tell you we’re gonna rent a place in The Pit?”

Cactus stirred the pot of red as it began to steam slightly, “Really? What depth?”

“Around 10,000 feet.  We move in next week.”

“Why so shallow?”

“Beats me.  Ask mom and Cidel.” 

“Are you happy about staying put for a while?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Again, you don’t hide your lack of enthusiasm well.”

“It’s just now I’ll be around more people.  And I’m, well, ya know.”

Cactus took the soup off and and threw a tiny square pan on the flame.  “No, I don’t know.  Tell me.”

“Aw, come on.”

Cactus looked at him intently with a stone face.   

“I’m shy.  I don’t feel comfortable around people, usually.”

The old man sighed and threw the bread on, “I wouldn’t worry about it.  You might grow out of it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll become a bitter old man like me.”

Setarcos frowned at the sad prospect.  Cactus nudged him with an elbow, “I’m only joking.”

Setarcos laughed uneasily.  Cactus continued as he carefully placed thin sliced cheese on the bread, added more bread, and impatiently mashed it with a spatula.  “I have a question.  How did your parents end up in the SeAgora?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone, including my parents?”

“I avoid most people like the plague, you know that.”

“Fair enough.”

Setarcos relayed the story of what had transpired when he was a child, or at least the version of events that his mom had told him.    

“Very interesting,” Cactus said as he slurped his last bit of soup.  “So I imagine that another reason you want so desperately to solve the dark matter riddle is so you can free your father.”

“That’s part of it,” Setarcos admitted.    

“There’s just one problem with that idea, though.  Just because you give the state what it wants, doesn’t mean they’ll give you what you want.  Far from it, and usually quite the opposite.  You can’t and shouldn’t bargain with criminals.” 

Slice 13 Coming Soon!

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