Read The Last Place to Stand Online
Authors: Aaron K. Redshaw
“What do you mean the first?” said Odysseus.
“The first to settle in this area,” he said. “Of course there are others, and communities vary from place to place, but my wife and I established this one.”
“So,” Sydney continued, “do you want to see the place?”
“I certainly would,” said Jane. She had been busy getting their sleeping room cleaned up. “I can't wait! A place of our own.”
A few minutes later they were standing on a plot of ground that was at the lower part of a slope. The terrain was the same: red dirt, scrub brush, with no other distinguishing feature. “Is this where we're going to live?” said Hamlet.
“Yup,” said Sydney.
The children started to play. Chasing each other, playing tag.
Jane came up to her husband who was looking toward the horizon. On this side of the mountain, they could just see the city in the distance. It was a reminder of where they had been. Something to look at and not despise so much as be thankful that their lives were better now. “Home,” she said as she stood by her husband and he put his arm around her.
In order for a reboot, the patient had to be brought down to very low functionality by the anesthesiologist. Then they had to immerse him in ice water. This slowed his brain functions even more. When he was about as close as they could get, the anesthesiologist said, “Power up.”
In the observation room, a group of men watched in anticipation. “What's that mean?” said the general of the military, O-1603.
E2175, one of the inventors of the technology, said, “That means the electronics, which were turned off during the install, are going to come online now. Since his brain is in very low functionality, the hardware and software will have an easier time subduing it.”
“Subduing it?” said a short, pointy nosed man who was watching quietly. “It sounds like a hostile operation.”
“Well, it sort of is,” said E2175. “The brain can no longer be allowed to be the only one in command. It will share much of its control with the processor. In fact, the processor will be the one to determine triage, so really, it has more control than the brain.”
“Wow,” muttered the pointy nosed man. “Isn't that dangerous?”
“It's not without risk,” said E2175. “But if successful, this could be the greatest leap forward we have received for many years.”
They watched intently at the operation taking place. Dr. Chin used a small device that looked like a stylus. He said to the surgeon, “Please separate the lobes one last time.”
The surgeon did so and Dr. Chin touched the stylus to the processor. Immediately the man's eyes opened. With his head still opened up it was a disturbing sight. He looked up at the ceiling and then at Dr. Chin, and said, “I—I think I'm okay.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dr. Chin said. “Now get some rest. We still have more to do.” The patient obediently closed his eyes again. “Let's get him back together.”
Both men spent the next hour putting his skull back together and sewing the skin in place. There was no hair since it had already been shaved for the operation.
In the observation room, men cleared out, now that the excitement was over. One man remained behind, the general, who stared at the patient for several minutes through the observation window.
The Director of Operations was satisfied that the procedure went so well. He knew this was a risky experiment, but then again, taking those kinds of risks was what brought him to the top of the company, and the world. Internationally, things were fine, but right now, the world was in for something totally unexpected. This new turn in technology could bring about a new age of enlightenment for man. Man would no longer be the only ruler on earth, but a co-ruler with computers. It was exhilarating to think that he would live to see the new evolution of man. And this time, evolution was on purpose, not just some accident that turned out well in the end.
But being a realist, the Director also had plans in case things went wrong. He had been here before. The other experiments were not as bold, but bold enough. And the ones that went wrong? They had to dispose of the body and the technology. That was easier. It was all the other documented loose ends that were a problem. He had to have whole sections of his staff discarded at times, though not necessarily killed. It was a sticky business, but that's what the general was for. His men were loyal and ruthless and...one of the experiments that was successful. A chip placed in each soldier’s brain overruled fear, doubt, or even self-preservation. The secret army had been one of the first initiatives the Director of Operations put into effect as soon as he became the new ruling authority.
He had to build it up slowly at first, making sure people did not suspect. It gave the wrong impression to tell the people that you are building a peaceful society and then create a colossal destructive force. He first hired the technicians who could create a chip capable of making perfectly obedient followers. This was essential to having an army that was trustworthy. The history of the world was peppered with great nations that were brought down by one individual who betrayed them. This could not happen. There could be no disobedience.
In order to have complete secrecy, those chosen for this service were siphoned off of from the general public. There were those who were reprogrammed workers who had witnessed too much and had to be disposed of, but then there were others that had to come from a different source. For instance, there might be a tragic accident and one of the power generators exploded destroying an island somewhere. That was what the media would say, anyway. When this happened, they rescued the islanders, reprogrammed each person, telling them it was just a maintenance check. They would replace their regular chip with an obedience chip. Then they simply explained to the families that that individual had perished in the accident. That was the easy part, because people seldom grew too attached to others these days. Not like the old days. People had a life now.
The Director of Operations had not been down there for a while and he wanted to check in on the troops. He got into a lift and descended below the basement level. It was not even on the floor selector. He pressed the basement button, but also held the 1st and the 3rd floor buttons at the same time. That was the code to get the lift to go to this unknown level.
Fortunately, the lift was extremely fast. No need to waste time with slow technology. People have a short life as it is, no need to waste it waiting for things to happen. He had once read about earlier years and how they would spend whole years of their lives sitting in their transports waiting for lights to change color in order to move forward, and about computers that had to warm up in order to work properly. He had read all kinds of absurd things like this. Those archives had come through on the feeds for him to listen to and he was amazed at the primitives who lived here before. Well, things were different now.
Life was certainly more advanced, more worth living. How could people have been so foolish to let it all go so easily? Oh well, that was the old race. This change will make all that obsolete.
As the feeds came in, the Director of Operations learned about new developments that were occurring with the patient. It seemed that all was going well and the patient was just coming out of his anesthesia. That was good. Now we can get down to finding out how successful they've been, he thought.
The lift stopped and the door opened. A well-lit cavern was spread before him; so large the ceiling could not be seen and the other wall was a distant blur. What at first sounded like a rush of water, once he listened more closely, was a mixture of thousands of voices. Divisions of soldiers performing different training exercises, trying out various weapons, exercising, and going through all kinds of maneuvers made the cavern alive with activity. There were open bunks against one wall that stretched out of sight. There was no need for shelter since there were no differing weather patterns, and there was no need for modesty in a group of perfectly programmed soldiers. They only did what was commanded.
There was A2165. He had been an important man just three years earlier. Some of the greatest innovations had come through him, including the earliest feed technology. It was too bad he had stumbled onto some hidden military files. A2165 ran in formation, then dove over a barrel and crawled under a wire along with his platoon. A good little soldier. His family thought he had been killed in a lab fire.
Stepping out onto the raised platform, the Director of Operations took another shorter exposed lift down twenty feet to ground level and walked over to the general. Only the general was not programmed as it would hinder his creativity. He had undergone many physical, mental, and emotional tests and trials in order to assure he was faithful to his post. “General,” said the Director of Operations.
“Yes, sir,” said the general as he saluted.
“No need to do that,” said the Director, “It's too much of an old race thing.”
“No problem, sir,” said the general.
“How are things progressing?” said the Director.
“Very well,” said the general as he watched a group of his men practice firearms. “I think they will be ready according to schedule. You know, it's not like they will need to be extremely capable in order to accomplish our mission.”
“I want to make sure things go smoothly and easily. I only wish the training could have been all done through technology. If that was the case we would not need to take so much valuable time.”
“Well, you understand,” said the general, “muscles need to be built up, hand eye coordination still takes practice when firing a weapon, people still need to learn to work as a team. All these things cannot be done with a chip. It would be nice if it could, but I don't think it's ever going to happen.”
“You think too little of the power of technology,” said the Director.
“I know it does wonders, I just don't think it can do everything.”
“Yet,” said the director. “So, when will they be ready to move out?”
I think the end of next week will be a good time for our launch.”
“Very good.”
Seeing endless wave after wave of soldiers gave the Director a feeling of power. All the power in the world. All would certainly go well. This was a very good day. And this was just the beginning.
As the patient stirred, the doctors watched with silence and a sense of awe. The patient, now sitting up on the table, did not move except to blink his eyes. He would blink five or six times and then move his head a little and then do it again. This response was not a surprise as this was how people often processed new information—by blinking. It was well known in psychological circles. It might have been that the patient was seeing the world for the first time via the chip interface.
The patient now looked at them and blinked five more times. Then he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it again. Then opened it again and said, “thirstywaterdrinkliquidsatisfy.”
The doctors started for a second, then one said, “Do you want a drink?”
“Yesafirmativepositivetrue,” said the patient.
The doctor got a cup of water and handed it to the patient. The patient took a drink and handed back the empty cup.
“How do you feel?” asked a doctor.
“Tiredexhaustedpoopeddrained,” he said.
The doctor said, “Go ahead and rest. You can lay down for now.”
The patient laid down silently and went to sleep.
“What do you think happened with his speech?” asked one of the doctors. “He did not know which word to say.”
“Maybe his communications center is not functioning properly,” said a second doctor.
One doctor, with a smirk said, “It might be that he is trying to say every possible word at the same time and can't get them all out.”
“Perhaps it's the database access,” said another. “I used to work in that field of research. He is trying to access every word with the same meaning. Like when he said, thirstywaterdrinkliquidsatisfy. He was thirsty, he wanted water, he wanted a drink of liquid that would satisfy. All those concepts had a drink of water in common. He just isn't making a choice of which word in that association to use.”
“The chip may be having difficulty with triage,” said another doctor.
“Do you think we were successful?” asked the first.
“We cannot tell,” said the old database engineer turned doctor.
“We will wait,” said the first doctor.
“Yes, we will wait,” said the other.
While Poke was busy stoking the fire, getting ready for lunch, X4287 approached her. She had not seen him all day even though he was still staying with them. He seemed to be doing better and was going regularly to the meetings to cope with the transition. He was not a talkative man, but more contemplative. He stepped up to her and stood by the fire. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he answered back.
“Have you had a good day?” she asked.
“I think so,” he said. “I hope so, anyway.”
“So,” she said uncertain what to say next, “have you come to any conclusions?”
“Yes,” he said. “I like it here. I have also decided on a name. It has taken me a lot of thought, but I think I have one I like.”
“Let me hear it,” she said.
“Zosimus,” he said. “I learned the name after talking to the boy, Hamlet.”
“I have never heard a name like that before,” she said, “What does it mean?”
“It means ‘likely to survive’ in Greek. I am happy that I have survived so far, but I like the idea that I will continue to survive.”
“That sounds good,” she said. She poked at the fire. “It is a name with some hope attached, and that is always needed.”
“I think so too,” he said as he sat down. What gives you hope?”
“I don't know. I guess my family.” She looked to one side for a second as if thinking of something else and said, “and...something else.”
“What is that?” he asked.
“The past,” she said. “The past life I had with the Technos was dark and lacked any sense of hope. I was rescued, and knowing that can happen for people, that they can be so lifeless one day and the next full of thoughts about the future. That gives me hope. Not just for myself, but for others. It gives me hope to see them have hope.”