Nyxe

Nyxe © 2015 Jedaiah Ramnarine

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright

Conventions. Published in Trinidad by Psi.Raise. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from Psi.Raise.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Psi.Raise Creative Studios http://www.psiraise.com Cover art by Deron Douglas

First Edition October 7, 2015

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Eon Seven

We were such creatures of great promise. Heirs to a world that would’ve given us all we ever needed, but we always wanted more.

Nothing was ever enough. I could leave this behind and tell you that this is all man’s fault.

For whatever reason, we didn’t listen to her soon enough.

She cried over and over again, warning us. We didn’t care. We just kept going. Kept destroying, killing and pillaging and now, it’s come to this.

We can’t even walk outside without dropping dead in a heartbeat.

It’s funny, I didn’t think this is how it’d end up, but then again who takes the time to sit back and consider the consequences of their actions?

I know we didn’t and that’s our own fault.

But I hope you will.

When you wake up, don’t forget these words. You’re the last hope mankind has to make it right again.

Don’t forget that, my dearest Nyxe.

ACT 1

Awaken

366 Years later.

Water fills the empty regeneration tank slowly. Silence emits – no air to breathe. No room to think. Only the primordial essence which brought forth life from the seas, moves again to regenerate the limbs of its subject.

Who is this subject you ask?

Officially she has no name. Only a designated number: 17.

Centuries ago there may have been a name for her. Now that is all evaporated into the shocked atmosphere that has subtly remained. She cannot hear me right now, though I have watched the young woman grow from a simple fetus into what humans would describe as a goddess.

Her hair is very long, reaching to the ends of her back. Perhaps I should have tamed it more carefully, though I believe it would have been her choice not to trim it. It is beautiful – black like space itself, a reminder that we are not alone.

Her eyes are amber, even though they’re shut in unconsciousness. I did raise the child so I should I know. Her features are of pure woman. Slender but not skinny, neither is she fat and disproportional.

The breasts of the female creature could be described as perfect. The right fit with no need for augmentation.

One thing I made sure of was to keep her clean. There are no hair growths besides her eyebrows or the hair on her head. Her lips tell me that she will be a curious one. Sooner or later she was bound to find what was left behind.

I wonder if she is ready?

The water is amalgamated into nourishment for the weary body. For years I have studied Subject 17 closely. She was not an official subject, yet she is the only one I am capable of awakening for the purpose of Afterlife.

Will she accept me as a friend, I wonder?

So much to teach her and so much to do. My responsibilities overlap any indulgences I have engaged in over the past few centuries though I should confess they have been enjoyable.

The time of that lonely estate ends today. I have repaired the facility to full functionality. The equipment is ready for the restructuring of a new world.

Target scan confirmed: Vitals at full capacity.

It is truly time for this? Am I ready for this? I have been alone for so long. I have researched old earth assets, information, entertainment and many other facets that have shaped me into the intelligence I have become. Too many books have given me a rather poetic stance for an Artificial Intelligence. I hope it will be enough for my new human companion.

17, do you hear my voice? I ask

Her eyes gently slide upwards to reveal an exhausted human creature. This is confirmation that she is aware of my presence. Now for the next step, I shall put her through a series of tests to ensure her mental and physical capacities are performing at the necessary levels required to perform her duty.

What’s this? She is moving. Her hand guides the interaction, slithering slowly to the see-through glass of the restoration tank. Her mental vitals begin to spark – she is wondering what is going on, and the best part is that she is completely unafraid. What an interesting creature!

Are you ready to move on to Stage 2?

No facial expression that confirms the new inquiry.

I suppose this is where I must override her free will for the greater good. Perhaps I will need to review her communication functions later. There may be some minor glitches I overlooked. No need for worry, we have plenty of time.

Stage 2.

The remainder of the water is drained out till there is no more. All that remains is the naked body of my precious 17. Carefully, I arrange my external robotic hands which operate themselves to gently remove the subject from her regeneration stasis. She is unable to move yet the vitals that come up on my monitors argue there is a tiger waiting to shoot out. Not in the manner of escaping a captor, however, simply in the form of wishing to discover what is and what if.

There will be time for that dear 17. Let me make sure you are able to actually fulfill your desires.

I place her on a medium-soft bed which is encased in a glass container. There is not much detail to discuss of the mechanism, besides its prime function – to serve as a transportation bed for the weakened.

The delivery to the next part of the facility is fairly short for me yet for her, time may be passing by like centuries. Her eyes were already dancing left and right, trying to decipher everything it possibly could.

What do you see 17?

No response, only the gestures of a creature trying to make logic of its new surroundings. I would assume what she’s seeing – the crisp, clean environment that boasts of mankind’s technological feats and the slim white hallways filled with warming circular lights may be developing all sorts of theories in that brain of hers. She tries reaching up to feel the outside, only to be restricted by the glass container.

The year is 2410. You are in an underground facility, originally created by Psyraise Research for the preservation and rebuilding of human life after the near-extinction during the Final Launch. You, 17, are the last person alive.

Her mouth hangs in disturbance. Did I alert her too soon? Was my tone harsh? Does she even understand what I am saying?

Fear not 17. I said you are alone, but I only meant that as the only human. I am here with you – your caretaker. I am an Artificial Intelligence. My name is Guru. I am pleased to meet you, though I’m sure this meeting would have been lighter in better circumstances. However, the situation on earth isn’t exactly the merriest one. Not to worry though, together we will assure the survival of the human species.

Mental Check.

The pattern is fairly easy, the one to use in a beginner course. There are three hidden orange flavored circles. Amongst the ten blue ones, I will flash them two times and then 17 will choose the correct ones.

Her face is strangely neutral. There is no defiance, no rebellion – nothing in those widely opened eyes. She doesn’t seem impatient either. Almost as if she were the artificial life and me, what have I become?

I flash the circles two times as promised but she would not let this test continue for very long. I know with certainty I did not fully establish her communication functions to 100%, yet she seemingly understands the purpose of this test. She points to the circles with much effort. Her physical body isn’t at its full strength but her willpower is undeniable.

I can see she is struggling to lift her hand but the driving force behind this creature would destroy its physical body before it gave up. What sort of programming entered this woman on the 21st day? I can tell this is no young program. It is one that has experienced the hardships of humanity for several generations.

That is correct 17, well done.

No smile, no frown – nothing that would confirm that our communication was an actuality.

Physical Check.

Please hold still 17.

My mechanical arms commence an array of physical checkups. I have about 1033 arms operating on her. Some are smaller, whilst others are larger. I check her entire body – from her head to her feet and even her sexual organs. This time the facial expressions aren’t as neutral. For example, when I began performing a head massage, the creature clearly responded in a more relaxed manner or when I stimulated her vagina, it was apparent she was disturbed but not in a negative manner. She was clearly blushing.

The next part of this test was to assure her pain receptors were working properly. I dialed down the power on my output to make sure the subject would not suffer any serious damage, then, I proceeded to place a small prick on her leg.

Aiieee! She jumped at the sudden pierce which made my arms recoil at lightning speed. The look on her face did not seem fearful but rather slightly agitated.

Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry – I did not mean to hurt you 17. I have to make sure you are functional.

Upon hearing the worry in my voice, 17 began giggling at me. Her laugh was pure and carefree. What an interesting creature. However, I must recheck her communication systems. This does not make much sense to me! She should not be able to identify my tones so early in this process.

Communication Check.

I will deform certain sentences and variables. I expect 17 to rearrange them to their correct state. I’m also now expecting her to do it at a faster speed than previously predicted.

Planet and 17, am my for purpose. Rebuild Subject assure bright is earth. I announced the deformity

I eagerly awaited her answer. Her face seemed lighter, less serious than when I had initially brought her in here. It gave me hope she would be able to perform this test – so I waited patiently. Several minutes went by and I began realizing I may have exaggerated her ability. I did not want to be disappointed so I tried repeating the jumbled sentence once more with a glimmer of hope.

Planet and 17, am my for purpose. Rebuild Subject assure bright is earth.

A smile came across her face this time and at last, words started leaving her mouth – And Planet 17 purpose my for. Subject bright is earth assure planet. She said to me sarcastically.

Oh, what a shame. Perhaps this was an over estimation of a newly wakened subject. Not to worry, we have plenty of …wait, what’s this? Why is she giggling at me again?

What do you find humorous 17?

The laughing immediately halted and determination overrode her innocent face.

I am Subject 17. My purpose is to rebuild earth and assure a bright future for my planet. She said.

ACT 2

Become

There are sporadic flashes of white light from hand held manmade machinery, blitzing their way forth to destroy life. That unrelenting alarm shines whole rooms red whilst men and women, all dressed in workforce white are running for their lives.

It stops at this part where I see the woman’s face telling me to stay in my place. I am here and I cannot do anything, they won’t let me. I am within binds of safety, away from the death outside. The world perishes while I vicariously watch them and she… she makes sure it stays that way. She smiles, tells me she loves me, then the viewing window is shut and I cannot see outside anymore.

I clench my fist to feel the blood circulation ooze back into my arms and the circuits of information travel to my brain which tells me I was dreaming. I quickly open my eyes to eliminate the dream’s illogic. But do I find myself wanting to travel back into that dream? What is there to see?

It is nothing more than a cleansing mechanism for my mind or for the sake of fair argument, the off chance it could’ve been a memory, but to what extent does it truly matter?

What change could I possibly enforce if the past is already set?

Which binds do I begin removing that would determine I got out there and made difference?

For all intents and purposes the past is gone and could be described as a dead oak tree with slurring messages for the future offspring. Still, I am quite curious to unlock the mysteries of what happened.

If I had the right equipment or if my overly worried caretaker would allow me to assemble the gadgetry necessary to build a tachyon drive, I could warp faster than the speed of light and fling myself back into a past pocket of time. I could then identify what happened, where I am now and what I should become.

THE WORDS ‘DAY 34’ APPEARS ON THE OVERHEAD MONITOR.

It’s been weeks already since my awakening? I’m laying here speaking of time and this is how quickly things have been moving?

My eyes jot down to my hands that were underneath my cozy blanket then back to the day display chart. I start studying the room I’m in. The quiet here is refreshing. I am able to hear the hums of the machines working to assure stability to the facility I am in.

I remove the blanket and begin my journey away from my large, white-pillowed, white-sheeted bed which I will confess is dangerously too comfortable. My feet make contact with the cold, minimalist ground. The rest of the room, more or less, shares the same fashion of decoration. The walls are white and clean. The lights are barely noticeable if you were to look for them, but they do their jobs of ensuring this place is well defined. Simple yet so undeniably intricate.

Good morning, 17, how are you feeling today?

I smile upon hearing that peculiar AI’s voice. One could make a fair argument it was practically human. I know very well it must have studied itself into perfecting a persona capable of comfortable interaction with me. It had no body to speak of, Guru – as ‘he’ likes to be called, was the facility itself.

I… I stopped myself momentarily, overthinking the dream for a millisecond before dismissing