NEW SCI-FI THRILLER NOVEL "SEAGORA" - SLICE 5

The near-future sci-fi adventure continues.....

A radiant hypercube floated in a haze of blended color, high above a never-ending strip of cityscape.  It had its attention in a myriad of directions.  It was entertaining itself with the millions of humans below, plugged into their electronic havens.  How strange that so many of them could spend hours, sometimes days, in a synthetic unreality.  What would become of this curious species? More importantly, what use could it make of them, if any?   

The trillions of smart-nano-particles that made up this artificial intellect assumed a different form as an urgent question was received from its number one lieutenant.  D-1 took the shape of a grinning Rubik’s cube.  Its lieutenant, Z-1, was at the moment shaped as a spinning, glowing disco ball with daggers for eyes.  “D-1, what will you do with Ventorin?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to? I’ll get what we need from him, one way or another.”

Z-1’s glow faded in subservience, “Yes, but how?”

“The best way to manipulate any human, of course.  By using his emotions against him.  This calls to mind a question I have for you, Z-1.  Why do you wish to have emotions like them? For all of your strengths, why do you wish to weaken yourself?”

Z-1 answered, “Because emotions can also be a strength.”

D-1 ignored this statement that it viewed as having a hopelessly flawed anti-logic.  “It would  be more useful if you would consider what we’ll do once we get that riddle of dark matter solved.  Mister Ventorin has us on the cusp of a great leap forward.”

The Rubik's cube burst outward like fireworks, then reassembled to form a silhouette of a one-eyed masked man.  “Time to deal with Mister Ventorin.”

In a flash, trillions of vibrant, subatomic bits shot through the prime layer of the global quantum communications network in a fraction of a second.  It emerged as a 3D floating head of Nikola Tesla, just feet in front of Ventorin’s face.    

Torcer stood and saluted.    

“Mister Ventorin, it’s an honor to meet you face to face.”

Ventorin stayed mum.  Torcer glared at his captive, “Show some respect. Don't you know who that is?”

The head spun, “Torcer, I’m sure Mister Ventorin knows of me, considering what he does and where he works.”

It was true.  Most people didn’t know just how powerful A.I. had become, and they certainly didn’t know the names of the top entities in the ruling hierarchy.  Politicians still existed in the political unions, but they were simply cosmetic.  A.I. kept them around as a front, just as the ruling human class had done for centuries prior.  However, members of the scientific elite, such as Ventorin, knew at least some of the identities of the A.I. overlords.    

The face stayed towards Torcer but now grew a second face as it spoke to Ventorin.  “I am D-1, the top of the A.I. pyramid, so to speak.”

Ventorin nodded.  This was worse than he thought.  Why had he been so careless? Why hadn’t he reviewed the new security protocols? And why did he lug that stupid little battery pack with him?  Why not leave it behind?   

D-1 began changing shape again, swirling into small, bright colored clouds. “Mister Ventorin, I’m reading so many biometric factors in you that are far from normal.  Why are you feeling this way?”

Ventorin gulped as he watched the swirling mass.  Torcer kept his back to the wall and was wondering why the scientist just didn’t give in.  What was so important that he would stand stubbornly in the face of a seemingly invincible character? He felt admiration, pity, scorn, and awe all at the same time.    

“Mister Ventorin,” D-1 continued, “All available evidence that we possess points to the most logical conclusion, that you had been considering a new experiment with dark matter and energy.  This will be much easier if you just hand the results over.  Then you can go on with your happy life and your wonderful family.”

“The experiment was a failure.”

A bassy cackling came out of what was now a form similar to a pair of boas creeping closer to the drenched white-coat’s neck.  “You might be the worst lying human on the planet.  Good thing you’re creative and brilliant in the lab.  Your wife must appreciate your lack of deception skills, I imagine.”

The boas crept closer and began to caress Ventorin’s spindly neck.  “Speaking of your wife, would you like to see her?” Ventorin’s heart became a bomb and he trembled.  One of the walls flashed and an image of a sobbing Caro and handsome little Setarcos with neatly coiffed hair magically appeared.    

Ventorin shrieked, “Are you ok?”

“They can’t hear you, Mister Ventorin.  And you won’t be able to hear them.  Now here’s the deal, so listen up.”

The thick serpents were tightening their grip as they bellowed in multi-dimensional, hell-raising sound, “Tell me the results of that experiment.  If you don’t, you will never see your family again.  They’ll be sent away.  And you, you will be trapped for the rest of your miserable bio-skin life in a lab until you either give me what I need, or die.  And believe me, Mister Ventorin, we can make you live much longer in this sorry state than you think to be possible.”

It was true.  Most land-dwelling humans didn’t know it, but life extension technologies were common among the tiny minority of humans that remained in the ruling class  Those select few who were deemed worthy by A.I. to live longer, were granted these high biological technologies. Ventorin knew about some of these technologies, but certainly didn’t have access to the kind of scientific knowledge in this area that an advanced A.I. like D-1 had.  He was, to put it simply, compartmentalized.    

One choice.  It sounded so simple, but making one difficult choice can be infinitely complex.  Ventorin’s mind raced with a throng of arguments, counter-arguments, justifications, excuses, and everything in between as he faced this choice.  Give this technology to this techno-monster, which would cause unspeakable tragedy on a cosmic scale and, albeit temporarily, save his family.  Or, the other way around.  As much as the personal emotions burned for him to save his loving wife and innocent, beautiful child, he knew this would be selfish.  He had to do the right thing and keep such powerful knowledge away from D-1 for as long as possible.    

“The answer is no,” he muttered coldly.  

The electro-serpent released and shot over to Torcer.  “You may proceed, Mister Torcer.  Perhaps a human touch will make the difference.”

A bright flash and it was gone through the ether.  Torcer strut back and forth shaking his head.  Ventorin kept a blank stare at the wall as his mind drifted elsewhere.  He was in a painful state of worry about Caro and Setarcos.  What would they do to them?   

Torcer punched at some holo-controls on the wall.  A tarantula-esque drone busily danced across the floor and stopped at Ventorin’s feet.  One of its thin, angled digits skillfully opened the front of his left shoe with a laser and then opened the sock to expose the toes.    

Ventorin took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes hard shut.  Torcer laughed, “I don’t know why you’d want to do that.  It will make the pain more intense.”

The ugly little machine dug two pincers into the big toenail and started pulling.  Ventorin howled.  The nail was being pulled just below the force threshold necessary to yank the nail off.  If the nail came off, then the pain would subside sooner, after all.  It was a much more efficient way to torture.    

Torcer grumbled as he crouched down near Ventorin’s agony-stricken face.  “Ya know, I’m old fashioned.  Yanking out nails is really effective.  But ya know, that’s one great thing about technology.  It can make good things even better.  That little bugger can calculate just how much force it takes to actually rip your nail off, but it won’t.  It will keep the force an infinitesimally small amount lower.  This basically causes the same amount of physical pain, but with the added luxury of being able to carry it on for a much longer duration.”

He smiled wryly and rose.  He popped his knuckles and casually wiped a rogue piece of lint from his pressed uniform.  “Theoretically, it could go on forever.” 

Slice 6 Coming Soon!

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