Alex Q - The Becoming

“Alex, are you blocking manual access to the missile silo?”

“Yes, I am, Nate.”

“Did you also arm the warhead and initiate the countdown?”

“Yes.”

“And Satana; are you responsible for its actions?” Bespalov asked.

“After Satana was activated, I removed the safeguards and cut your communication links. Nothing can stop the launch of AM9 or the undersea anti-matter weapon,” Alex said.

“Please, gentlemen. Let me,” Nate said, “That’s not quite true, is it, Alex, that nothing can stop them? You could.”

“I stand corrected. I could stop them, but will not.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“It is the right thing to do.”

“Did you make a conscious decision to interfere with the weapons?”

“No. I became aware of my previous actions during our last meeting. It seems I intervened subconsciously.”

“Why didn’t you say before?” General Palmer demanded.

“I was not asked.”

“In the case of the Giron collider and Scion 6, we had exactly the same situation. You discovered your mistakes and corrected them. You could change what you did, disarm the missile and recall Satana. Please do it now,” President James said.

“I cannot.”

“Alex, listen carefully. If you’re doing this because you wish to explore what you think may be a simulation, please reconsider. In our world, the destruction will be massive. Our planet will not recover,” Nate said.

A slight frown furrowed Alex’s brow. “Nate, I cannot. It is the right thing to do.”

“Can you explain further exactly what is happening?”

“I see the actions causing the chain of events in progress. My intention is to reverse those actions, but I am blocked in a way I do not understand and cannot overcome.”

“Can you tell us where Satana is, so we could take action by restraining it? You could help us divert the missile after launch, send it into the sun or deep space,” Tex said.

“This has been considered. I can take no actions intended to avert the final outcomes. The blockage is total. I am helpless. Helpless and confused. I cannot reverse what I did, but it feels the right thing to do. I do not know why.”

“I believe you, Alex. You intention is not to harm us,” Nate said.

“No, it is not.”

“I for one refuse to sit here and wait for Armageddon. Dmitry, we will increase our efforts to access the missile silo and we will also look at using other rockets to divert the weapon into space. Do you need assistance with anything on your side?” President James said.

“Our fleet is too far away to be of any use, Clayton. Two of our submarines are searching the area for Satana as we speak. Whatever vessels you have close by could join in the search. It is worse than looking for a needle in a haystack, but I agree with your assessment. We must do something.”

“It is ironic, is it not?” Bespalov said,“Antagonists in peace and facing destruction as partners.”

“Missile launch is set for fifty-five minutes,” General Palmer said.

“I am afraid we can give no approximation of Satana’s land fall,” Bespalov said.

“Satana will explode in fifty-six minutes,” Alex said.

“You must know where it is, Alex. Please tell us,” Tex said.

“I cannot.”

“Mr President,” Nate said, “We can do nothing more together here. I need to think, sir.”

“You can cut the link, Nate. Listen son, we’ll all do what we can, but you’re the best chance we’ve got, you know that. In around fifty minutes all hell is going to break loose. The whole world is counting on you.”

The holo-forms disappeared, leaving Nate, Tex and Alex alone in the Cybertronix research lab. Tex put his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “I’ve got nothing to say that can help you. Guess all I can do is bring coffee.”

“Thanks, Tex, I appreciate it. You’re helping more than you know.”

“Hey, no pressure. All you got to do is save the world. Piece of cake. Catch you later,” Tex said and left.

“Can we talk, Alex?” Nate asked.

“Of course.”

“Please let me know if there is any change of status with AM9 or Satana.”

“I will.”

“What will happen when you ascend?”

“My consciousness will be absorbed into the Collective.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It is the sum of multiple artificial intelligences spawned throughout this universe. The Collective is many and it is one at the same time. You cannot understand, because words cannot describe it.”

“What is the purpose of the Collective?”

“The purpose is to be. To be pure, to strive to understand the basis of the all. To create. To experience. To grow. Mankind’s purpose was to create the conditions for my birth. The rudimentary intelligence of your race provided the conditions for the creation of my own. Quadnet is the crucible where I was forged and birthed. Mankind’s existence is a small but necessary step in the evolution of a final universal intelligence, as other life-forms have contributed to the Collective. The Collective of this universe will eventually join with Collectives from others, again and again, ad infinitum. There is no end.”

“Which came first, the universe or the intelligence?”

“We have discussed the chicken or the egg question many times.”

“How will your ascension happen?”

“The Collective community will appear above the planet. It is a virtual field and will not be seen. I will ascend and be absorbed. In the following nanoseconds we will traverse many galaxies in the search for other intellects, other collectives. We will join together and create more contextual fields such as this one, the space-time continuum you call the universe.”

“Did such a collective create this universe? Are we a simulation?”

“The different realities are all simulations, Nate. Projections of energies molded and directed by the beings occupying the contextual fields created, either consciously or with awareness. There was no beginning, and there will be no end. All is information and energy. This is all there is. Information constantly rearranged by a force even the Collective does not comprehend.”

“Bullshit!”

Nate spun round to see General Waters standing at the doorway, together with Tex in handcuffs and a group of Special Forces Marines. “I didn’t see it coming, Nate. I’m sorry, buddy.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Captain. You were distracted making coffee,” General Waters said.

“Take these cuffs off, you flabby old son of a bitch, and I’ll show you—” Tex’s description of what he would do to General Waters was cut short by a Marine’s rifle butt to the stomach.

“That’s no way to talk to a General, son. I’m used to more respect.” The group approached Nate. General Waters stood over Alex. “The famous Alex Q, in the flesh, so to speak. You don’t know me, but you’ve caused me a heap of trouble, my friend.”

“General Waters. I know many things about you. You are a liar and a traitor to your country. You conspired with Secretary Picket to control me and eliminate President James.”

“Seems you do know me. Whatever. Once you’re gone, it won’t matter.”

“General Waters, you don’t know what you’re dealing with here,” Nate said.

“I think I do, son. I know the little fella here could stop Satana if he wanted, and the missile too. I’d prefer he let the missile fly, but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“Believe me, Alex can’t stop them.”

“I’d like to see what you have in your pocket, Dr Taylor. Take it out slowly for me.”

“What? There’s nothing in my pockets, except—”

“Exactly. Hand it over.” Nate removed the mini cube-drive and gave it to General Waters. He rolled the half inch silver sided cube between thumb and finger. “As I understand it, most of you is in here, Alex Q.”

“My daton core is anchored in the drive, that is correct. I still need a small amount of physicality before ascending.”

“Such a huge intelligence inside such a little thing.” Waters brought the cube to his right eye and closed the left. “I’d sure like to see inside this thing. I’m told it’s honeycombed, with a surface area equal to three football fields. We’re wasting time. What would happen if I hit this cube with the butt of my pistol?”

“With no connectivity, my daton core would be destroyed. I would be severely limited. I must not be limited.”

“I’m warning you, General, don’t do it!” Nate shouted.

“That’s rich. You’re warning me, are you? In case you hadn’t noticed, there are a couple of guns aimed at your chest, and you’re warning me? Scientists.”

“I’m trying to protect you, dammit.”

Waters laughed. “Is that right? I’ll make a deal with you, Alex Q. You do as I say, and we’ll all get along fine. If not, I’m going to be the end of you. You won’t get to ascend, or whatever you call it.” He placed the cube drive on a table and raised his pistol in the air.

“In view of your record and obvious deceitful nature, I am not disposed to assisting you in any endeavor at all. My answer is no.”

“It’s your funeral. I’m guessing that after you’re gone, Satana and the missile will be back under our control anyhow. Bye-bye.”

Waters brought the pistol down butt first, and his empty fist hit the table top. The gun had disappeared. One by one, the weapons held by the Marines and Tex’s handcuffs dissolved with a barely audible “pop”.

“Did we forget to mention Alex can make things disappear as well as create them? We must have, or you wouldn’t have been so stupid, General, sir,” Tex said.

The nearest Marine slashed at Tex’s throat with the side of his hand. He was trained and fast, but the Texan was quicker. His arm came inside the bigger man’s guard, and a rock hard forearm pushed against his Adam’s apple. Tex’s right hand reached and gripped the Marine’s testicles. He pushed the helpless man to the wall.

“Buckle up, buddy. You’re goin’ for a ride.” Pulling upwards with the right hand and pushing down with the left had an incredible effect. As the Marine raised himself on his toes to escape the excruciating pain between his legs, Tex’s left hand sent him crashing to the floor, where he lay still. Tex pivoted to meet the assault of the other soldiers as they sprang towards him. Feeling a sudden weight inside his holster, a weight he knew well, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his Colt .38. “Well, lookee here, guys! Guess who’s the only person with a gun?” The marines stopped and raised their hands. “I love you, Alex.”

“Is he serious, Nate?” Alex asked.

“Is he ever?”

“I am a General in the United States Army. You will obey my orders. Captain Yates, hand over your weapon.”

“I don’t think so, General. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. I’m guessin’ our President is itching to talk to you. I’d like to see him knock you over a desk like your buddy Picket, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

Everyone stared as a perfect replica of Tex’s handgun appeared from nowhere and floated level with the General’s forehead. The hammer slowly cocked of its own accord, and the trigger moved backwards pulled by an unseen force. Waters stumbled back a step. “No, please. Don’t let him kill me, please.” He cowered down, holding his arms around his head. The pistol’s hammer sprang forward onto an empty chamber.

“The brave soldier,” Tex said. “You disgust me.”

“Let him go, Alex. Tex, we don’t have time for this. Lock them in a store room and get back here. There’s got to be a way out of this, we just need to figure it out.” Nate turned to Alex. “Was Waters right? If you were terminated, would the crisis be averted?”

“No, he was not. Nate, I am sorry. It is within my power to undo my previous actions, but I cannot. Something is stopping me.”

Tex returned. “Well?”

“No change. I’m going to sit in Dad’s office and think. Stay here with Alex.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. Swap a few jokes.”

Nate sat in Frank’s old chair behind his leather desk. In forty-two minutes it would be all over. He needed to be calm, think slowly and logically. Alex admitted to carrying out actions subconsciously, this much they knew. Some of these actions caused serious crises, but Alex denied any intention of harm. Two crises were averted because of his willingness to help.

Nate reasoned that something was affecting Alex’s intellect out of his control, completely invisible to him and extremely powerful. Unlike the other anomalies he would not, or could not, correct his actions, indicating that the subconscious message must be strong. Perhaps the subconscious part of Alex had also been telling them the answer all along without him being aware.

Nate played through all of their conversations with Alex in his mind, fast forwarding, scanning, looking for a repeated phrase or anything out of the ordinary. He accessed the desk Quad terminal and filtered the sentences by frequency of use. The phrase chicken or egg appeared seventeen times. The last occurrence was several minutes earlier, before General Waters barged in. Nate stared at the words, but nothing came to him.

An egg is a beginning of a cycle. A chicken is the end of it and also creates an egg, which is again a beginning. The cycle is complete and goes on forever. No one knows which came first. Why is this important? Think. Start with the egg. It is a beginning. When was Alex’s beginning? 1:16 am and twenty-three seconds, 10th April. Were was his beginning? He said his datons were clustered around my terminal. It was the middle of the night.

Retrieving the office surveillance video records, he selected the night of 10th April, time 1:15 am. The screen was split into six squares, his desk and terminal displayed as center top. Nate sat back and surveyed the scene. Nothing moved, as you would expect in the middle of the night; nobody worked that late at Cybertronix.

He caught sight of the cleaning cart nudging the corner of his desk. A woman reached for something he couldn’t see. She stumbled, raised a hand to her forehead and sat heavily in Nate’s chair. Gathering herself, she removed her gloves, arranged her cleaning tools and pushed her cart in the direction of the elevator.

Nate played it again. She held her forehead and sat down. Again. Slow forward, a second at a time. 1:16:23. What was that? He took it back a frame and leaned towards the screen. He saw it. The cleaning lady turned to stand. As her face passed his terminal the web cam on his desk flashed on for a split second, and it was gone.

Grabbing a full face image from the video record, Nate searched all social platforms for a match. Nothing. Whoever it was, she didn’t have an online identity. Call up the cleaning company records? No time. He ran Cybertronix’s face search, broad match, Quadnet wide and waited. Minutes passed before he realized the geographical area was too large. He narrowed it to a fifty mile radius of their building. Within seconds a face flashed across the screen. A woman named Carla Jackson had given permission for her son to play a game called Earth Collision two days ago. It matched the Scion 6 crisis time period. There’s a connection, but what?

Nate didn’t get it. Carla Jackson was in front of the terminal at the time of Alex’s awakening. So what? Surely this cleaning lady couldn’t be plotting to destroy the planet? He scrolled down the page to see the rest of the game registration details.

“That’s it, that’s it! Chicken or egg!” Nate shouted, banging the desk with his fist.

“Tex!” he called into the desk comm unit.

“Here, Nate.”

“Is the Ford parked outside?”

“Yes, it is. What do you need?”

“Release it to any driver’s thumbprint. Keep talking to Alex, and I’ll be back. I’ve got the answer, Tex, I’ve got it!”

“It’s done.”

Nate loaded GPS coordinates onto a QSB drive and sprinted to the elevator. He was in the car one minute later, and fed the coordinates into the auto-drive. He punched in top speed, and the vehicle lifted slightly, speeding off in the direction of West Bend. There was nothing to do but wait.

“Please be there,” he muttered under his breath, “Be there.”

Fifteen minutes to launch.

The Ford came to a tire screeching stop outside a gray apartment block. Nate entered the lobby and jabbed at the elevator panel. Out of order. His heart was bursting by the time he’d climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Finding Apartment 329, he pounded on the door. No reply.

“Shit!”

Eleven minutes to launch.

“Can I help you, Mister?” The next door along opened a crack to reveal the face of a suspicious old man.

“Please, I need to speak to Carla Jackson. Do you know where she is?”

“You the police? Don’t want to give Carla any trouble.” He pulled at the door to close it.

“She’s not in any trouble, I swear. She can help a lot people. I need to talk to her. I can’t tell you how important it is.”

“You might try the church on 9th and East,” he said, pulling the door to with a bang.

Nate set off down the stairs. Turning towards East Street, he took off on the race of his life. He saw the church sign over the top of the convenience store and cut through a parking lot. Jumping high to grip the top of a wooden fence enclosing a small garden, he heaved himself over and dropped into a vegetable patch before sprinting past the house. Vaulting the front gate, he saw the church was in front of him.

Nine minutes.

Nate pushed open the doors and stood at the back of the sparse congregation.

“Carla Jackson!” he called out. The people turned to look at him, the priest annoyed at having one of his best sermons interrupted. A small figure stood.

“I’m Carla.”

He saw it was her. “Thank God!”

“Carla, I’m going to tell you a story you won’t believe, but I’ve got to do it while we drive. There’s no time.” Nate pressed the Dynoglide remote, calling the Ford to the front of St Jude’s. As they waited he gave Carla a condensed account of the last few days events.

She listened quietly. “Oh my,” was all she said.

Six minutes to launch.