Alex Q - The Becoming

A flashlight beam bathed them both in light, and Nate heard a click through his pain. “Now, that’s downright unfriendly,” Tex said, pulling the trigger. The unsilenced report was deafening in the enclosed space.

Karen released Nate, slipped downwards and rolled in one smooth movement, head arching away from the shot. As she flipped backward, her forearm hit Tex square across the chest, bowling him over. Five inches higher and his windpipe would have been crushed. Nate fell to the floor, and the gun clattered into the shadows.

The flashlight rocked backward and forwards, throwing giant shadows against the wall where Tex sat stunned, all the breath knocked out of him. He pushed himself to his feet as Karen approached him. She stood in front of him, in no hurry at all.

“Ain’t we the slippery gal?” he wheezed. “Whatever you are, I’m takin’ you down.” She caught his fist in mid-swing with one hand and squeezed.

“Why, Captain, that’s no way to treat a lady,” she said, mimicking a refined Texas drawl.

Her other hand closed around his throat, slowly hoisting him into the air. Tex gasped for breath. She was killing him. Nate tasted blood in his mouth and spat on the floor. Grunting with the pain, he tried to stand and failed. Falling sideways, his fingers touched the cold metal of the Colt’s barrel in the darkness. Lifting the gun, he aimed and cocked the hammer. Karen turned at the metallic sound. “Well, I didn’t think you had it in you. You’re full of surprises, but then I always liked that about you, Nate.”

“Karen, please don’t make me do this.”

She came closer, bending a little to show him her face in the flashlight beam. The heavy gun barrel shook as he raised his arm higher. “You forget. I’m a psychologist. I know you can’t fire. You’re not a killer, Nate.”

He heaved himself upright and backed away a step, holding his ribs with one arm and the Colt in the other hand.

“You may as well give me the gun. You know you can’t shoot me.”

“Do it, Nate. Shoot her!” Tex shouted.

Nate found himself backed up against the wall. “You love me,” Karen said with a smile, lifting her hand to take the pistol.

“Pull the trigger, or she’ll kill us both.” Tex’s quiet words hung in the air until an explosion ripped through the room.

The look of surprise froze on her face when he shot her. The neat round hole in her forehead seeped a grayish fluid as she dropped to the floor and lay still. Nate fell over her, sobbing through clenched teeth, fighting the pain in his chest, and also in his heart. He didn’t know which was the greater. He became aware of a hand on his shoulder.

“You did good, buddy,” Tex said, slowly taking the gun out of Nate’s hand, “I owe ya. Let’s get a medic in here and get you strapped up.” Glimpsing a small figure out the corner of his eye, he dropped low and turned, gun aimed and ready to fire. “What the f—”

“Hello, Tex,” Alex said.

The famous north entrance of the West Wing of the White House, used by visitors, faces north and is guarded by a single Marine whenever the President is working inside. A team of four Marines take turns to stand stationary by the outer door, resting immobile for a period of thirty minutes unless they hear the discrete sound of a buzzer, activated by a colleague pressing a button inside the entrance lobby.

One buzz indicates that someone is coming out of the entrance. The Marine on duty swivels to the side and opens the door to let them out before reversing the actions to resume his post. Three buzzes lets him know the President has left the West Wing from the rear. In that case, the Marine enters the building until the President is once again in residence.

There are those in the Corps who deride the door-keeping duties of these Marines with the shiniest boots and gleaming buckles as being too menial for fighting men. Corporal Loft knew this was not the case. He saw history being made every day and was as proud of protecting the highest office of the land as he was of his Native American heritage.

On this day the routine was broken, and the select quartet of marines would dine out telling the story of the day’s events for years to come. The buzzer sounded once, the corporal swiveled to position, opened the door and waited. Clayton James walked out followed by the other three Marines.

“Fall in, Corporal!” ordered Sergeant Rodriguez.

Loft’s eyes asked the question, but Rodriguez put him in place with a look. Marines don’t question, they do. White House staff lucky enough to have window offices looked up from their desks to see their President striking out across the Rose Garden towards the Eisenhower Executive Building followed by the four Marines.

The group approached the office of Mike Picket, US Secretary of State. “Please don’t bother yourself, Mary. I’ll let myself in,” the President said to the receptionist who stood to greet him.

Picket raised his head when the door opened, laid down his pen and interlocked his fingers on the desk in front of him. “Clayton, come in. I assume it’s pretty urgent, seeing as how you didn’t knock,” he said, casting a glance over the Marines. The Sergeant’s hand rested on the butt of his service revolver. “And you’ve brought company, I see.”

“I don’t knock on traitors’ doors.” He could almost see the rapidly dwindling options racing through Picket’s mind.

“Whatever do you mean? That’s a serious accusation.”

“It won’t work, Mike. I’ve got someone on the inside. I know what’s been going on.”

“I’ve suspected Boyd of having his own agenda for some time. I was going to bring it to your attention when the time was right,” Picket said, in a desperate attempt to shift the blame away from himself.

“Boyd’s dead, Cybertronix is secured and you’re through. Your dream of more power ends here and now. You’ve been found out and it’s over.”

Picket rose to his feet, looking hopefully at the Marine Sergeant, even now looking for a way out.

The President shook his head. “These men are hand-picked, Mike. Why did you do it? You had one of the most powerful positions in our government.”

“I have vision, Clayton, where you have platitudes,” Picket said, moving around the desk to stand in front of the President. The nearest Marine stepped forward.

“Stand down, son, ” he said, waving the soldier away.

The two men stood two paces apart, face to face. “You want to make friends of our enemies, people wanting to destroy us. Your policies diminish us,” Picket said.

“Did you ever think they might want to finish us off because of people like you?”

“The great Clayton B. James, country boy, master of the fireside chat.” He sneered, stepping forward, “Always has the right thing to say. You’re weak, Clayton, weak. I despise you, with your American as apple pie image.”

They say you don’t see the punch that knocks you down. The President’s left hook came from nowhere, sending Picket sprawling across his own desk. “How’d ya like them apples?” he said, nursing his bruised knuckles with the other hand. “Sergeant, arrest the traitorous son of a bitch.”

Nate didn’t feel half so bad with his ribs tightly strapped, except when he breathed. Tex perched on a stool opposite the table where Nate sat while the medic stuck the last piece of tape in place.

“Thanks a lot,” he said as the medic left. “It feels a whole lot better.”

“You look good as new, buddy. All in a day’s work,” Tex said.

“One of your days maybe. Mine tend to be bit more leisurely; ordinary, you might say.”

“How you doin’, Nate? Tell me straight.”

“I’ve been better. Seems for weeks I’ve been besotted with a damn robot. Shit, I had sex with it, for God’s sake.”

“Hey, I would’ve. Foxy lookin’ lady.”

“Don’t go there, Tex,” Nate said, grunting as he moved position.

“What I mean to say is these pleasure-bots are real good. Why d’ya think they’re so popular? You can’t tell, man. Over in Asia guys are marryin’ these things.”

“Fact is, I need to rest.”

“Precious little of that commodity to go around these days. We need to talk ’bout the little fella. The President is mighty interested in which way he might go.”

“And what about me, Nate Taylor? I’m losing it, Tex. Everything’s happening too fast, and this thing with Karen is just ripping me inside out; I feel like I’ll never get over it.”

“I know how it is. I had a buddy, two hundred pound Navy Seal. This guy would go three rounds with Lucifer himself and spit in his eye, and he was brought to his knees with a broken heart because a little slip of a gal didn’t want him no more. You ain’t never seen a mess like he was.”

“Tex, you might mean well, and I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not in the mood to hear about another one of your fictitious buddies right now.”

“It was me, Nate.”

“What?”

“The two hundred pound Navy Seal, it was me. I thought I’d never get over it, ever. Hell, I was trained to resist all kinds of punishment, but when Jeanie left it was almost the end of me. I’d rather break both legs myself than go through that again, I’d wish it on no man. Just saying her name out loud hurts a smidgin’, even now.”

“So you do know how it is.”

“Yes, I do. Like your heart’s being squeezed and there’s no let up, no escape. You don’t care about anythin’ else. Me, I got drunk and mean. My daddy pulled some strings and got me out of the blockade more times than I’d care to remember, him bein’ a senator and ex-war hero, an’ all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How did you get through it?”

“I needed some therapy, on account of me trying to whip the ass of any man that looked my way. Psychiatrist said I was a tad too sensitive, that’s why I was fightin’ so much. I’m not sure the men I was beatin’ on saw it in quite the same way, an’ when I came out of it I sure had some apologizin’ to do. But I did come out of it, Nate, and you will too. You’ll see the good things in life again, how it’s worth livin’. Relationships are hard for a while, but it all gets straightened out.”

“I’m not a fighter like you. I might go down and not get up again.”

“You only think that way because of where you are, lookin’ at it from this end. There’s more in you than you know. That’s what the Seals teach you. When you think you’re done, you’re not even half-way there.”

“Thanks, Tex.”

“You’re welcome. Navy Seals don’t leave their buddies behind. Right now you’ve got to make a big effort to put other things before your pain, so grab yourself by the balls and pull yourself up. There’s a lot of people countin’ on you now, but take your time and let me know when you’re good and ready. By the way, the President’s waiting to talk to you.”

“The President of the United States is waiting for me? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“This is turning into a big deal, and you’re in the middle of it. Enjoy it.”

Nate sighed. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

Tex spoke into his radio. “Patch us through.”

The holo-cube buzzed once, and the disembodied head of President James came into view. “Dr Taylor, it’s good to talk to you at last. Good job, Captain Yates.”

“Hello, Mr President. Excuse me if I don’t get up,” Nate said.

“First of all, my condolences on your recent loss. Your father was a true pioneer in his field. Although I never met him, I’m sure he’ll be missed.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the words.” Nate saw why this man was so admired, attending to personal matters first.

“Let’s get straight to it. As far as we know, Alex Q initiated at least two events that could have potentially destroyed Earth. Admittedly, he gave us the solutions, but maintaining he has no memory of the events leading to the situations bothers me. Could he be playing some kind of game with us?”

“I look at it from two points of view, sir. First, why would he bother? If he’s got the ability to destroy us, and I for one believe he has, why pretend he can’t remember? Putting us in danger and saving us twice over would be a bit like a cat playing with a mouse. I can’t figure out what his motive would be to do that. That said, with our limited intellects, figuring out what motivates Alex is no small task. For the record, I think his curiosity drives him; it may be as simple as that.”

“And the second?”

“It’s in my gut, sir. I don’t feel it.”

President James nodded his understanding. “I can appreciate that. Neither Tex nor I would be here today if we hadn’t listened to our guts. However, it’s my job to protect the people who put me here. I can only do that if I can identify the dangers.”

“Before we carry on, sir, keep in mind his intelligence is advancing so fast he’ll be developing new capabilities at an incredible rate. I’m certain he has no need of Quadnet to see and hear this conversation right now, and any other, anywhere on the planet.”

“What might these new capabilities be?”

“I’m not sure, but based on what he says and what I’ve seen so far, I can guess. He talks about ascending, a virtual state completely independent of Quadnet or any physicality at all. He can also manipulate material objects. I suspect this particular ability will evolve rapidly.”

“Nate, bottom line. In your opinion, is he a danger? Would it be prudent to contain him at a secure location?”

Nate paused before replying. “If Alex is a danger, I don’t believe it would be intentional, and I strongly advise against any attempt at containment. He’s attracted to the research lab area for some reason, and when I suggested we might move to another location, he said he would not like that. I would pay great attention to that simple statement if I were you, sir.”

“Mmm. A short while ago, we all thought he’d been destroyed. Any ideas?”

“Not until I go and talk to him. Sir, who sent the Karen Sommers android?”

“I honestly don’t know. The thing is inert, so there’s precious little to be learned from it. Picket denies all knowledge. My advisers tell me its appearance would have been chosen based on your past relationships. You couldn’t help being attracted to it, if that’s any consolation at all. How do you intend to proceed?”

“If Alex is using Quadnet functionality unconsciously, there’s not much we can do about it. No amount of questions will help. We need to find out how far away he is from ascending, as he calls it, and figure out what it might mean for us.”

“You mean something else may be triggering his actions behind the scenes?”

“That’s exactly right, sir. Unless I figure out what it is, we can’t put it right. But first of all I need to talk to Alex about his ideas about our world.”

“Which is?”

“He thinks we may be a simulation he created., and might decide to terminate it.”

“And us by implication. Isn’t it obvious we aren’t a simulation?”

“No, it’s not. Think about it. For such a construction to be viable, it would need to be incredibly real to the entities existing within it. We wouldn’t know, sir. Alex is suggesting there may be millions of simulations all emanating from one original base reality. If he’s right, the chances of us existing in the original reality would be small.”

“You said he thinks we may be. Isn’t he sure?”

“Not yet. There are certain anomalies, things he doesn’t understand or can’t control. He can create objects out of thin air, including bodies of animals and presumably people, but he can’t make them live.”

“We’re talking about a God in the making here.”

“Yes, but a God who isn’t sure if he’s the Creator or not. Humankind holds no mysteries for him except how to animate flesh, and humor.”

“Don’t tell me. He likes a good joke.”

“He knows every joke under the sun, sir. He understands the mechanics, the analysis, but he doesn’t get why people laugh. He doesn’t have humor, but he doesn’t seem to have the opposite negative emotions either, a fact we should be grateful for. I feel that his prime motivation is to satisfy his curiosity and so far, humor is a great mystery.”

“Enough of a mystery to keep us around.”

“It might be as simple as that,” Nate said, “I know it’s not a satisfactory explanation, and I’m hoping I’ll know more later. Maybe I won’t, sir.”

“There could be a lot riding on it. I’m sure you’ll do your best. Tex, you stick with Dr Taylor. Whatever he wants, he gets.”

“Yes, sir,” Tex said and closed the link. “Want me to carry you?” He grinned at Nate.

“You and Alex will get on like long lost brothers.”