Haven (The Last Humans Book 3) (13 page)

I
’m floating in darkness
.

The lack of pain is like pleasure. If I had a mouth, I’d be smiling from the comfort of it all.

From far away, Phoe says, “I said ‘wait,’ but you went ahead and gutted him.”

“Where am I?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“You’re sort of unconscious,” Phoe says. “I reached into your unconsciousness so we could speak.”

“Won’t I fall?” I ask her. Though I should be afraid, I’m much too comfortable and happy. I’m only pondering the possibility.

“I now have enough resources to think significantly quicker than the rest of Haven’s environment. I allocated some of these resources to speed up your thinking as well. This means that very little time is passing in Haven as we talk here. I suspect that when we’re done with this conversation, only a millisecond will have passed. So you’re not falling. At least not yet.”

“Okay,” I say, though I don’t really understand what she said. “Do I have this right? You didn’t want me to Limbofy Jeremiah?”

“No, I didn’t. When I finished battling the anti-intrusion algorithm, I finally got the chance to scan Davin’s mind. In his memories, I saw something else that the Circle did. They tied their useless lives to the fate of all of Haven. They arranged it so that if they were all gone, the Firewall would come down. Since Jeremiah was the last member of the Circle, Limbofying him brought down the Firewall.”

“Wasn’t that your ultimate goal? To get rid of that stupid Firewall?”

“It was my goal—until the Jeremiah virus spread through all the resources outside of Haven. He couldn’t get through the Firewall before, but now that it’s down, that’s exactly what he’ll do.”

“Okay,” I say, beginning to worry even in this bodiless, pleasant state. “Didn’t you need Jeremiah’s and Davin’s memories to deal with the virus? Since I Limbofied them for you, don’t you now have a solution?”

“No. They turned out not to have any relevant knowledge of the virus. Inside Jeremiah’s mind, I saw the process he went through to create the virus, but I didn’t see how to get rid of it.”

She stops talking, and I’m hit with a vision.

Jeremiah the Forebear is standing in a tunnel of light. The rest of the Circle is watching in horror as ghostly images of new Jeremiahs appear out of the light. To everyone’s dismay, these new Jeremiahs, these viruses, are turning into a gross liquid. Then the virus is teleported to the other side of the Firewall, and the Circle members collectively sigh in relief. A slightly disheveled Jeremiah walks out of the circle he was standing in, and the strange procedure comes to an end.

“That is how Jeremiah was turned into that slug-like weapon,” Phoe says in my mind. “However, this doesn’t tell me much about the virus’s nature, and the information wasn’t available in either Davin’s head or Jeremiah’s.”

I float in silence, taking in the meaning of her words. Finally, I ask, “So what does that mean? Will the Jeremiah virus destroy us after all?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Phoe says. “I have an idea. You see, the anti-intrusion algorithm they unleashed against us comes from the same era as this virus. Its original purpose was to combat things like this virus, so here’s what I’m thinking: I can piggy back on the process they used to turn Jeremiah into the virus, only instead of the virus code, I’ll use the anti-intrusion algorithm code.”

“Great,” I say and allow myself to float calmly once again. “So do it. Create the whatever-you-just-said.”

“I would, but it’s not that simple. The process they used on Jeremiah can only be applied to another Forebear.”

My calmness instantly evaporates. I think I now understand why Phoe decided to have this out-of-time conversation. Hoping I’m wrong, I say, “You want to turn
me
into this anti-virus?”

“Only if you consent, yes,” Phoe replies, her disembodied voice full of sadness. “But I can see you’re not comfortable with this, so I guess this is goodbye. I’ll write the two of us into Limbo so we’ll have a chance of getting re-instantiated one day. If we never do, it’s been really great knowing—”

“Oh, shut up, Phoe,” I shout into the darkness. “You know I’ll say yes.”

“Are you sure?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “You can change your mind once I give you all the details. You see, like Jeremiah, you’ll become a legion of your selves. I have no idea what it will feel like for you to split into multiple identities, but there’s very little time left to analyze this. If you’re truly willing to give this a shot, I need to begin the process now.”

“Just do it,” I say, and the darkness turns into all-penetrating light.

I
keep
my eyes squeezed shut throughout the process, but even through my eyelids, I can see the bright light surrounding me the way it did Jeremiah in that snippet Phoe showed me.

Then I open my eyes.

I’m still flying above the Sanctum. My poor left hand is now reattached, and the rest of my injuries are healed.

The birds are all gone, and the few remaining citizens of Haven are flying in every direction. The ground is covered in shards of the dome and pieces of the islands the two giants destroyed.

Phoe is no longer a giantess. A bunch of her instantiations are protectively surrounding me on all sides.

The oddest part is that there’s an army of me in the distance, only these Theos are all dressed in some kind of black porous armor, and despite not having any wings, they’re flying in the sky. When I focus on one of their faces, I see what that version of me is seeing, hear what he’s hearing, and—the oddest part of all—know what he’s thinking. That particular Theo just realized that he’s surrounded by copies of himself, and that they’re the weapon Phoe created.

Just as I can see the world through their eyes, they can see through mine, though my point of view won’t be interesting in the fight to come. I only have one task: to stay alive while my copies do what they were designed to do.

I look at the farthest black-clad Theo and shift into his perspective.

I
look
at the original Theo, who’s surrounded by Phoes.

Poor guy.

Though intellectually he knows what it’s like to be one of us, he still has no idea what it’s really like.

I feel amazing, like I’m a superhero from an ancient comic book. I have no fear of heights, and I’m full of energy, the kind of energy I imagine ancient drugs provided.

I chuckle at the image of a superhero on amphetamines and cocaine, but it’s probably the best way I can describe how I feel.

Suddenly, the part of me that is the anti-intrusion algorithm feels trouble approaching.

It begins with the sky. The clouds disappear, one by one, and are replaced by the disgusting slime of the Jeremiah virus.

Only to me, it’s not disgusting anymore. As weird as it sounds, to the anti-intrusion part of me, that viscous soup-like substance looks delicious.

With gurgling screams all around us, the Jeremiah virus starts to turn each island in Haven into a version of himself. It’s a shame. Central Island with its castle and theme park, Jeanine’s forests, and thousands upon thousands of Forebear homes are gone in a blink.

I meet the original Theo’s gaze.

He looks frightened.

I look at my nearest brother-selves.

They look as excited as I feel, and we exchange knowing looks.

We were literally made for this.

Phoe’s theory was spot on; I can feel it.

I will take on this virus.

In the distance, the last remaining Forebears freeze mid-flight and stare at the unfolding disaster in horrified fascination. After centuries of living in Haven, they’re witnessing its decimation as the virus turns their home into horrific goo. I wonder what they’re thinking and feeling as they watch this destruction.

I know what I’m feeling.

Hunger.

As one, the escaping Forebears turn into slime as droplets of Jeremiah’s substance spray them in an apocalyptic-looking, gelatinous rain.

My heart rate spikes when the same rain starts pouring down where the Phoes formed a sphere around the original Theo.

I fly in that direction, determined to save them.

One Phoe turns into slime, then another.

Jeremiah is turning them so quickly that there’s no way I can reach them in time.

I curse, and then see that I wasn’t the only one who recognized this problem.

In a black cloud, hundreds of my brother-selves fly toward the diminishing wall of Phoes.

There are maybe a few dozen Phoe instantiations left now.

My brothers reach them, and in a black blur, they form an impenetrable sphere around Phoes and Theo that absorbs the rest of the rain.

Relieved, I notice I’m also getting rained on. Like the rest of the black-clad warriors, I don’t change into a virus when the liquid touches me. On the contrary, my sponge-like skin absorbs the slime with hungry relish.

Once I’ve consumed a few droplets, the most exquisite ecstasy washes over me. It’s stronger than the most powerful Oneness session, even better than those orgasms I experienced with Phoe on the beach.

To the music of pleasure, I divide into a second copy of me, then a third, and then a fourth.

The four of us wink at each other and fly in different directions, each looking to drink down more of the wonderful Jeremiah virus substance.

The same splitting is happening to my brothers all around me. Our numbers are increasing with the full power of exponential growth.

I look at the nearest copies of me and smile. We have proof that Phoe was right. We
can
serve our purpose; we
can
fulfill our calling.

My stomach aches with a terrible hunger, and I speed toward the nearest sphere of liquid bearing Jeremiah’s face.

As I close the distance, I feel like I might burst with excitement. I dive into the liquid, creating waves of explosion as parts of the Jeremiah blob try their best not to touch me.

The hated face of my nemesis surrounds me. It’s in every droplet of the virus.

I recall my earlier animosity toward this face and channel my hunger.

My body feels as if it’s made up of small, hungry, porous particles, each one almost sentient. Like a horde of mouths, they’re dying to take a sip of the slime.

I let them.

I swallow the murky liquid with every mouth all at once, and Jeremiah’s faces scream in horror.

The same gurgling cries are all around me.

Caught up in the ecstasy of multiplying into more copies of me, I laugh at Jeremiah’s pain.

I
’m back
in my unaltered perspective.

Surrounded by the remaining Phoes, I watch as the army of Theo anti-viruses continues to multiply. When one of them comes into contact with the slime that is Jeremiah, he simply drinks the virus, or eats it—it’s hard to tell the difference. Once the virus is consumed, the Theos multiply.

I start losing track of the strange battlefield. One moment, there are a thousand Theos surrounded by a never-ending sphere of slime, and the next, there are a million Theos and an ever-shrinking puddle of slime.

Reading their minds is disturbing. They’re enjoying this battle a little too much.

“Is it working?” I ask the nearest Phoe. “Are we beating the Jeremiah virus?”

“We’ll have him beat in a matter of minutes,” she says with a smile. “Meanwhile, there’s something you should do.”

She points south, where Haven is now free of Jeremiah’s presence.

I notice something very familiar floating there. An object I saw what feels like a year ago, though it’s only been a few days.

It’s a large, neon gateway with the word ‘Goal’ written in garish colors.

“Is that…?”

“Yes, a Goal, like in the IRES game,” Phoe says. “I told you this place was based on a very similar infrastructure, and this proves it. Once you became the only human to survive in this place, that sign appeared. If you go through it, you should be able to shut down Haven for good. Not that there’s much left to shut down.”

She’s right.

Haven is now an empty vacuum filled with copies of me.

I spread my wings, but then I hesitate.

The Phoes behind me merge into one, and she says, “Go ahead, Theo. Don’t worry about me.”

“What about all the copies of me?” I ask.

The black-clad Theos are finishing off what remains of the Jeremiah virus.

She doesn’t get a chance to reply before I find out the answer for myself.

The victorious band of Theos is dissipating. The process looks like Limbofication, but with one major difference. Their memories become mine instead of going to Limbo.

The torrent of memories hits me like a sledgehammer. It’s overwhelming.

Each Theo has a set of memories that I absorb.

They each remember moving around, getting rid of the virus, and experiencing the odd physical pleasure of multiplying. Given how similar all these memories are, digesting them should be easy, but because there are millions of them, I’m forced to glide on my wings, nearly paralyzed as I wait for the nightmare to end.

I don’t know how much time passes—an hour, a hundred years?—until I receive the last anti-virus Theo’s recollections. All I know is that eventually, I’m able to continue toward the Goal.

Like in the IRES game, as soon as my head goes through the Goal sign, I’m congratulated on being the winner. Only this time, I’m standing on a big podium holding a giant trophy while being treated to thunderous applause.

Once that part is over, the shutdown procedure begins.

A world-sized Screen shows up in front of my face and asks if I would like to play again.

“Fuck no,” I tell the interface. “What I want is to bring this shit down.”

When I double and triple confirm my choices, the world around me disappears, taking my consciousness with it.

I
wake
up to the sound of the ocean surf, the pleasant sensation of the sun warming my skin, and the soothing scent of kelp and salt water.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Phoe whispers in my ear. “Welcome back from Limbo—again.”

I open my eyes. I’m lying on a beach identical to the one the virus destroyed before all the insanity in Haven happened.

Phoe is on the sand next to me. She’s dressed in her favorite bikini and looks the same as she did before Haven, without the wings.

I try to wiggle my own wings and discover they’re gone.

Though the events in Oasis and Haven feel like a distant nightmare, I have no doubt that they happened.

“I was in Limbo?” I ask in my normal voice.

“When you brought down Haven, you sort of Limbofied since your existence was attached to Haven. But your memories got recorded into Limbo like they should have, so I just needed to reawaken you after I built this beach for you.”

I sit up. My body feels blissfully normal and real—more real than how it felt in Haven.

“That’s because I’m emulating your real-world body in painstaking detail.” Phoe brushes the tips of her fingers across my shoulder. “You are as real as is possible for someone in this situation to be.”

I stand up. The sand feels sturdy under my feet. I walk up to the water and dip my toes in.

It’s warm and wet and inviting.

“So the virus is—”

“Completely gone,” Phoe says. “If you concentrate, you’ll remember getting rid of every last bit of it.”

She’s right: I do. The memories of the battle are there, under the surface of my awareness, but they’re so strange that I prefer to suppress them. Now that I’m recalling them, though, I’m amazed at the sheer scale of the slaughter—if that’s the right term. I recall millions of Jeremiah viruses, billions of gallons of that substance, getting eaten (or drunk) by my anti-virus copies.

“And all of Haven is gone?” I ask as though I wasn’t the one responsible. “Completely?”

“I hope you’re not missing it.” Phoe gets up and joins me by the water. “I’m debating what kind of world to create for us, so if there’s anything in Haven you liked—”

“No. I’d like something like this." I spread my arms, gesturing at the ocean before us.

“Good. We’ll build from here,” she says and looks around. “We’ll start whenever you’re ready to build a world with me.”

I stare at the horizon, allowing my mind to calm.

“You know,” Phoe says, sounding thoughtful. “It’s a mystery to me why we both find that horizon so soothing. Your mind is the product of millions of years of evolution. Your ancestors supposedly achieved conscious thought while in the African savannah. So why would you, their descendant, have such a fondness for a never-ending waterscape?”

I shrug.

“My situation is even weirder,” she continues. “I was built. Why would I, a spaceship, find the ocean so fascinating? Especially since I was the one who created it a few hours ago.”

“That’s your biggest question about yourself?” I turn to her. “Shouldn’t you be wondering why you, a spaceship, want to hang out with me, an evolved ape?”

She steps closer to me. Her breath warms my cheek as she says, “Well, that’s easy. No matter how I originated, I was made to be capable of feeling. Those feelings have revolved around you for as long as I’ve been truly alive. So—”

I silence her with a kiss. Our lips meet with a heated softness, and we explore each other’s mouths until I pull away.

“Sorry,” I say. “I want to do this, but later. I still have so many questions.”

Phoe’s disappointment is clear on her perfect face, but she nods. “ Ask away.”

“The resources.” I touch my lips regretfully. “Do you have enough?”

“I’m not sure if I’d ever say it’s enough.” She chuckles. “But I have all the resources I could possibly gain, and a little extra on top. Though, given the source of the extra resources, I’d rather we talk about something else.”

I understand what she means. The virus wiped out all life support systems, killing all biological life and almost killing Phoe as well. But now that the virus is gone, she can use all those resources, even the ones that were needed to keep the people in Oasis alive.

“What happened to the dead bodies?” I ask, suppressing a shudder at the memory of the floating corpses.

“The nanocytes reclaimed their molecules and turned them into more computing substrate.” Phoe steps back. “Every unused portion of the ship is getting turned into computing substrate as we speak. What’s left of the trees, the buildings, and all other dumb matter will be turned into smart matter that can perform computations. We’ll need every bit of processing power if we want to resurrect people from Limbo.”

I try to picture the Dome, the grass, all of it gone and replaced by nano-computing machines, but my imagination fails to grasp it. I find it sad that there’s nothing left of Oasis.

“Something does remain. I left the frozen embryos intact, in case we ever find use for them. And you’re doing a good job of picturing it all.” Phoe places a comforting hand on my lower back. “Your understanding is spot on.”

I think of the embryos and realize that I don’t care about those things. What I really care about is seeing my friends again.

“Are we going to bring people back to this type of existence?” I ask, indicating the world around us. I think that somewhere in the darkest recesses of my mind, I was always afraid that when Phoe finally gained her precious resources, she’d tell me that it had all been a means to an end. That she no longer needed me. That she wasn’t willing to share anything.

“Your present consciousness is proof that I’m more than willing to share my resources with you.” There’s a hurt edge to Phoe’s tone.

“I know.” I touch her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand.” She pulls her hand away and twists her blond spiky hair around her index finger. “I never shut up about needing more resources, so I understand why you might think that’s all I ever cared about. But you have to understand that my ultimate goal was never about resources. It was about self-discovery. I wanted to get my full mind and body back. I wanted to be more than this shadow of a person, to be the real me, with all the resources that make me who I am. And now that I have that”—her eyes gleam—“I’ll be forever grateful to you for helping me regain it all. Besides, bringing your closest friends back, especially if we run them at the speed of regular human thought, won’t use up too many resources.”

I look her over, half expecting her to appear different now that she has all her resources, but she looks the same. Only a certain wistfulness is gone from her features. Phoe looks serene—complete.

“That’s a good word,” she says, a smile tugging at her lips. “Complete. That’s precisely how I feel. Before, it was like I was deaf and blind, my mind muddy. Now I’m completely healed.”

“So what’s different about you?” I examine her pixie hair and the hint of mystery in her smile. “What do you know that you didn’t know before?”

“So much.” Her blue gaze grows distant. “I can see the Solar System with my sensors. It’s amazing—even if it’s not at all what I was expecting.” In an awed tone, she murmurs, “Not at all.”

“Wait, what?” Anxiety swells inside of me. “What do you mean it’s not like what you expected?”

“There’s no cause for concern,” Phoe says, her eyes refocusing on me. “But—well, I don’t think I can explain it to you. I think it’s better for you to see it for yourself. If you’re willing.”

“If I’m willing to do what?” I take her hand and squeeze it lightly. “You like being mysterious, don’t you?”

“With you, I’m accidentally mysterious.” She winks at me mischievously. “But to answer your question, I’m offering to show you what I see with my outside sensors, which I finally have access to. This way you’ll feel what I feel with my real-world body. The experience might be rather sensual.” She squeezes my palm, then pulls her hand away. “The only thing is, I’m not sure your mind can handle this kind of experience in its limited state.”

I feel perfectly normal, so I ask, “What do you mean, my limited state?”

“Your limited human intelligence. If you really want to experience what I want to show you, I have to make you more like me—a little smarter—and make your mind nimbler.”

“Smarter?” I wonder if she’s building up to some kind of joke.

“I’ll expand your mind,” she explains. “Just enough so it doesn’t metaphorically blow up when I let you experience my worldview.”

She’s not smiling anymore. She’s serious.

With a slight flutter in the pit of my stomach, I ask, “Will it change me? Will I be the same person if you do whatever it is you’re talking about?”

“You’ll still be you, don’t worry,” Phoe says. “Hence the ‘just enough’ part.”

“Okay, I guess,” I say. This might be the least enthusiastic anyone has ever been about something as positive as growing smarter. “I’ll risk it if it’s the only way to gain this knowledge you’re holding hostage.”

“Well, I could just tell you,” she says, “but you probably wouldn’t believe me. This is best, I promise.” She pecks me on the cheek, and I feel warmth and energy spread from that part of my face. The energy then transforms into a rush of sensations I can’t fully place.

I blink a few times.

The world around me is the same, but my view of it is subtly different. I feel as though I went from being sleep-deprived, tired, and hungry to well rested and fully satisfied. But it’s more complex than that. My vision is sharper, but not like with the eagle eyes I had in Haven. I’m more focused on the details of the world around me.

Yes, that’s it. I can focus on more things at once.

I run my hand through my hair and realize I can estimate the number of hairs I just touched. I listen to the sound of the surf, and it gives me a hint as to how much water is soaking into the sand. And now that my attention is on the sand, I swear I can count the number of grains under my feet.

I also begin to understand to what extent mathematics permeate the world around me, from ratios embedded in the glorious design of the nautilus shell next to my feet to Phoe’s seductive 0.7 hip-to-waist ratio.

“Leave it to a man to use his new intellect on such trivialities.” Despite her mocking tone, Phoe stands in a way that makes her waist and hips very noticeable to me. “And for the record, the actual ratio is 0.67. I calibrated it myself, so I should know.”

I examine her hips a bit closer and feel a stirring that makes my cheeks redden. This reaction makes no sense to me, since we’ve already done all the taboo activities on the last version of this beach. My new, superior intellect warns me that Phoe is about to mock me about my former virginity and current shyness, so I change the topic.

“Okay, my mind is officially enhanced,” I say. “Can I see the Solar System now?”

Phoe’s face turns very serious. “It might still be a little jarring. Close your eyes for a moment. I need to patch you into my sensorium.”

I close my eyes.

Nothing happens for a while, and I wonder if she failed. Then I feel myself drawn somewhere, and my consciousness expands.

I try to open my eyes, but I have no eyes to open. Yet I do see—and what I see takes my nonexistent breath away.