Image of Chapter 1 scene rendered in Mecabricks. This book contains apocalyptic elements which may not be suitable for children. All names are fictional except some historical names, and any familiar names are purely coincidental. It’s sci-fi! For Dr. William Watts who truly fought the great fight and Diane Rosebery, who taught me to never give up. To get early access to new chapters and more, please support me at buymeacoffee.
Chapter 1
Earth, Sector 1.4, 2049 A.D.
“That is why your land is in mourning, and everyone is wasting away. Even the wild animals, the birds of the sky, and the fish of the sea are disappearing.”
Hosea 4:3 NLT
A colony of shadows haunted the jagged landscape, remnants of an ancient cave city. The dry heat of the wilderness served well to distract from the hidden gem. My armed guide scanned the landscape, and our RS3-mech carried provisions for a small army, assuming the worst in this abandoned sub-sector. The RS stands for Rover Supply, and the trundling robot conducted atmospheric readings. Through my helmet visor, my focus switched on the air quality index. My companion nodded, and we both removed our helmets with sighs of relief. The tower of smoke became visible before any other signs of life, and we proceeded with caution. The smell of roasting meat was a welcome change from the recycled air of my biosuit.
“Friend!” A dry voice bleated in the common tongue. “For a sip of water, I shall gladly share my story.”
Trembling in disbelief, I nearly tripped on my own feet. “Paul? Paul Orvisan?” The dancing campfire authenticated the face of the old recluse. Except that the body did not move for a long minute. Then gradually, the head bobbed and hands surfaced in surrender. My guide, Joma, had his finger on the trigger of his blaster rifle, his eyes squinting in suspicion. “It’s – it’s some kind of S-mech”; he peeled a mysterious gob off the robot’s face. Not missing a blink, he riveted as a new shape emerged from the shadows. “Halt! This B17 is wired into my exosuit”, Joma warned. The emerging shadow slowed to a crawl. “Hands up! This blaster does not miss.”
The real Doctor Orvisan revealed himself. Nodding at the cleverly designed sapien-mech beside the fire, he explained, “My stunt double, made mostly of clay. Had to be sure you weren’t here on a bounty mission.” He studied my guide as if doing a full-body weapon scan. “Kinemortophobic?”
“Kine-what?” The guide stuttered.
“Do you have a fear of zombies?” The doctor spoke slowly, clearly, sarcastically. He seated himself on a makeshift seat, and I followed suit. After draining most of our canteen water about his gaping mouth, the disheveled man continued. “Everyone thought it was the zombies that were gonna do us in. Nah. Nobody goes outside anymore.” Bolting up, he echoed “Noone goes outsiiide!” Then twirled in freedom under the purple open sky, his wild movements keeping my guard on edge. After regaining his bearings, the doctor continued. “There was that one zombie, but the robots took it out in a matter of minutes.” His arm mimicked a firing laser. “Sorry, is ‘robot’ old terminology? Some prefer to call them mechs or sikes.”
“That would be whatever you prefer, Mister Orvisan. You are the genius who created the first revolutionary Mech models. So zombies, huh?” I exchanged glances with Joma. My doubts of gleaning a trustworthy story were growing like weeds in section 2.3. “What is your source on this zombie incident?”
“Genius? No, no, I am simply a pilgrim, passing through this wilderness. Da Vinci is the robotics genius, the Da Vinci of a future history. A master craftsman, he truly brings them to life. Have you invested in robotics stock? Definitely do so, but only for a few decades. Ah, I suppose I have a great deal of explaining to do.” The doctor proceeded to reach into a nearby backpack, cautiously under Joma’s watch. It appeared to be a pair of cyber-shades, this one not as neat or slim as a Kruzer brand model. Naked wires and chips swarmed the goggles, making it almost appear more steam-punk than cyber. “I dare either one of you to try it on, though I must warn you that it will dig into your medulla. You will see things, unspeakable things, future, otherworldly…” Seeing that he could not sell us on the idea of strange technology piercing the brainstem, he drew in a long breath. “Then I shall just have to tell you the things that I have seen.”
“Wait! Are you saying you can see the future through those shades?”
“Not the future, a possible future, as no particular future is set in stone. Now, no need to refer to my titles, just call me Paul. And for time’s sake, I will keep it simple, as much as possible. The occurrence of the zombie incident is in sector 1.1, in the year 2068, a year when mech population approaches human population. Then comes the Great Revelation the year after, the discovery of an elite group known as the Cloaked Kings.” Paul fiddled with his goggles. “ The Mind Wizards, in their thirst for unlimited knowledge, uncovered the elitist identities one by one. Nobody imagined the extent of the Cloaked Kings’ power and wealth in their lust to become gods, at the expense of the remainder of humanity…” A howling animal, a coyote I guessed, interrupted him. The doctor turned as if addressing the animal.
“Right, that’s right. Every animal species aside from humans and some insect species had fled away from civilization. The incessant howling of dogs had announced the desire of nature to depart ways. Many a heart-broken pet owner relented to the call, watching as the tails of their loved ones faded from view. Among the human counterparts, some followed their scattered paths, fearing it to be an omen of coming disaster. Poverty, disease, calamities, famine, much could be traced back to these ‘kings’, the ones holding the reins of worldly powers. This is the cause for constant curses rolling off the tongues of many. Cursed kings indeed! The motto ‘pax et immortalitas in terra’ – peace and immortality on Earth – is that of the Mind Wizards, whose goal it became to restore human hope.
“It started with the threat of Parasitoid Z3, a supposed zombie parasite that infected humans. Para-Z1 showed promise in a private lab, if monitored in a therapy setting, to rejuvenate dying organs. Some rare parasites can actually be genetically modified to benefit the host. Para-Z2 became the link between human and machine, creating a generation of cyborgs. In a move of unwarranted greed, the Cloaked Kings pushed for Para-Z3, the key to human immortality, a flesh-restoring, machine-compatible ecosystem within a new breed of cyborgs. Fictional results were promised via corporate advertising campaigns. Unbeknownst to the masses, Para-Z3 was just another grand experiment upon the human population. Only one subject actually behaved like a zombie, most simply stayed dead. The most fortunate survived, gaining a mechanical limb but losing one of the five senses. Backup to the year 2045, I threw away my ownership of Kruzer Global to pursue another set of visions, visions found within this pair of shades, and yet visions found outside of the strappings of human sight”. The shades held some irresistible draw on him, first lifting his arms with imaginary strings, then forcing him to shake his head to snap back into alertness. “My son, Doctor Ian Orvisan, is destined to become a Mind Wizard. He is the one who will improve these visors to give sight to the blind”. Paul’s eager smile caused Joma uneasiness. “For I also was blind, but now I see.”
“Okay, great, sounds like quite the story”. I had entered a few notes into my e-log, mostly followed by question marks. Not a story to thrill my boss. “Found Famous Doctor But Lost His Mind”.
Doctor Orvisan grabbed my arm in an effort to prevent my departure. With a blaster held against his skull, he blubbered in agony. “Noooo! Wait, wait, bibenbroba!”
“Biben-what?” we replied in stereo.
“I can prove it! Look, these shades generate a tesseract bridge. The highly sensitive gravitors connect to quantum strings”. He lifted the device above his head, flipped a switch, and I was sure a sonic boom had hit us. “Oops. Did I forget to mention it pulls energy from nearby inorganic materials? Ha! That blaster is drained! Say, you do know Adwon Vinci, do you not? Then you can judge the future I foretell of him. He is where the real story begins.”
Knocked backwards, my guide struggled to escape his useless armor. Surely we had both witnessed advanced technology, emitting a flash of iridescent strings. The fire pit actually had ice beneath a puff of smoke. If Joma read my face correctly, I displayed more curiosity than fear. Adwon Vinci, the prodigy child, this was a name shrouded in mystery, perhaps even a story I could glean facts from. “I’m more interested in Adwon’s present,” I ventured.
“Oh, no you’re not. Not after your tender ears hear what these traveling eyes have seen.”
Copyright Tim Wilburson
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