Shores

He had to get away. His body was staggering— limping at a full sprint well beyond what he'd typically call frenzied. His mind had shut down but his body was still moving. The pain of it was a measure of progress. But flesh had its limits, and he had reached his. He faltered. He fell. As he hit the floor—that thrice-cursed black stone—he recoiled from it and crawled, dragging his limp legs.

Though his arms had no skin left in places, they bore his weight. Bruised strands of bloodied muscles were visible, but still they pushed him forward. With fingers that had long since had their nails broken and torn clear, he pulled himself away from what was behind him.

The pain of his limbs was nothing compared to his chest. Everything was burning from the abuse of mortal flight. It all paled in comparison to the skull-splitting pressure building in his brain. A million volts raced with every thought, cannons blasted his consciousness with every sound, a supernova of light greeted every crack of his crusted eyelids.

Yet he kept moving until inevitably, he could crawl no more. As panic bled away, so too did the manic strength it lent him. Terror had kept his mind entranced with survival. It had kept him alive. As sweet as life was, he craved a release from this unending agony that greeted him in its stead. His flesh longed to feel the pebbly shore of corpses in Náströnd, even the cruel ministrations of the goddess Hel would be welcomed at this point. An eternity of suffering in the afterlife would be worth it to escape one more second of this anguish.

The pain never subsided, yet it paled in comparison as something worse arose within him. Memories. Broken twisted images came to him in unwanted flashes of terrible un-light, a mockery of all the colors he had never seen. The shards he'd seen stupefied the mind and befuddled the brain just as pain paralyzed the body. He knew he could never share these haunting visions with anyone, such was the knowledge that it would only spread his corruption. If its reach grew too long it would be unstoppable.

His strength was escaping him, but the fear remained. The fear of who would do this. Of why. The fear that it must be done or else humanity would never travel the stars again. Shores now knew why he had been beckoned to come, to be made to understand something which could never be spoken of. The man they had brought was no more, and the desperate talons he'd buried in Shores's mind were now severed with his soul. A fate crueler than any he had ever humored.

His ancestors would be shamed if he ever admitted his doubts about his childhood faith. Old Norse traditions lost and reborn over centuries to keep them relevant. He'd always found the ideas of guardian spirits and angry ancestors who died on planets long forgotten rather dubious, but no longer. Now he murmured what verses he remembered, pleading for his forefathers to shield his all-to-real soul from the evils of this place.

Shores endured another spasm of the torso; his lungs spewed runny tumors of blackened flesh while his stomach retched pastel orange bile. Then he blinked, and there was nothing. No blood spilled nor any other of his life-waters. He vacantly suspected that was no good but cared little. If he should die, he would die. At this point he welcomed it, though he rejected his taking. He would die, of that he was confident, but he would not disgrace his watching forefathers.

Shores looked about himself. A room filled with black-cased monoliths in orderly rows, immaterial stars flashing in reds and greens and blues before his untrustworthy eyes. The high arched ceiling hid behind a grid of brilliant bars of light, providing the soft radiance that mankind had so long been allied with. No shadows in this room. He doubted there would be any now that the man was gone. He shuddered in palsy, his flesh fighting itself for warmth as it failed him.

This room was fine, a good place to rest— just for a while. Shores sagged sagged his skin, letting it bear him down, sinking onto the semi-solid floor like a log atop quicksand. He could feel the imagined grains roughing his skin smooth. A dizzying stillness claimed his mind in equal to his body.

WHAM!

Shores jerked into wakefulness before the echo had faded. Something large and metallic was moving towards him. Rather clumsily, he guessed as the hanging lights quivered and spun from impacts. He dragged himself behind a server tower closer to the wall, trying to put more distance between himself and whatever new horrors this place had conjured for him. He slowed his breathing while his chest protested for more air as his trembling heartbeat grew stronger. He groped at his sidearm holster and found only air.

The lights shifted, thrown about like some fell gale questing for him— or fleeing from something else. The walls caught and turned the sultry gust into his face. The befouled air burned his exposed skin, agony blazed across his open wounds. His chest pulsed, gasping in air that cut into his throat like a downed gulp of acid, doing nothing to soothe the flame in his lungs. Then his torso started seizing.

He clamped down on the first cough, smothering it beneath his clenched jaw and creaking teeth. But the rest were coming. The second ruptured his defenses, bursting through his nose. Another gust, much closer this time. Much hotter. Much wetter.

Shores dared not turn his head lest he look unto the Eye of Balor. Another cough rushed forth to betray him; desperately, he strangled its host. Still the coughs came pounding up into his hands while his chest heaved and abs spasmed. He needed air! The burning in his lungs doubled, then tripled. As tainted as the air may be, the alternative was a quick death. His vision was fading and the next gust was practically behind him, almost top-down, yet still his grip was iron-tight as his chest pulsed, crying from every movement. He shifted his hands as to center on his throat, allowing a tiny intake his lungs fought to repel while lessening his pounding pulse against his fingers. His vision did not clear but he gained precious seconds in which he heard other, many sets of slithery inhuman feet scuttling near.

"The blood trail leads deeper into the complex near the Casimir chambers." A polite voice stated.

"ACKNOWLEDGED" A booming speaker roared from the other side of his hiding place, then stomped away promptly.

Shores held out as long as he could, then released his bruised throat, fighting for air no matter its acidic tinge. His coughing fit retaliated from the first gasp, vengeful of its suppression. Minutes passed but his body couldn't expel its poison, and though the anguish never faltered, he'd regained what strength he could. He forced himself upright, held aloft as much by willpower as by the wall he unwittingly leaned on. Then he kept moving, towards oblivion or salvation.

* * *

Doctor Talfryn

Unsatisfactory, like most of his recent creations. In light of the circumstances of its forging, it would have been considered a miracle by the illiterate masses. He saw naught but a disappointment. It was a waste of talent, both his own and the subject's. It was to be expected with such low-quality materials, but it was always disheartening to see such raw potential squandered by the inferior. How could they be so complacent in their inadequacy yet so confident in their perceived superiority that they'd sit idly without growth? If they didn't apply themselves, how would they ever transcend the limitations of their mortal flesh? They wouldn't. That was why he had to force them to. That was why he had to save humanity from themselves.

"Another failure Doctor?" His partner asked.

"Not entirely. At least not definitively. Not yet." Some aspects could be considered a success if he was to reduce the parameters of his expectations. He'd been forced to do so regularly as of late. If nothing else, this one would serve as further evidence for his theorem pertaining to the creation of artificial entities without the complete processing of the brain map donor. His work was promising in that area. A welcomed tangent to his, thus far, unproductive line of primary speculation.

He pulled his attention from the trivially complex processing array and focused his vast intellect inward. While the results of his efforts were without question, there must surely be a more optimized method he could employ. The remains of his donors were starting to pile up; it seemed an imprudent waste to offer them callously to the void. They were simply too… simple to be of any actual use to him. His partner held no valid counsel on the subject when asked in the past. It seemed no different this time either.

"I fail to comprehend your rationale for keeping all of those wretched things. Would it not be more humane—as you so often claim to be—to terminate their squalid existences?"

"I am certain of nothing but their potential. I will not dispose of them without need until I have expended every avenue of inquiry."

He directed two of his hangers-on to move the husk to the standby location with the others. The applications were nearly limitless for a body robbed of its motive essence which still moved under its own power. The ability to make use of what was technically dead tissue without crude electrochemical stimulation could optimize production in every sector if appropriately harnessed. That knowledge, paired with a pathetic example of a so-called AI, made the process worth the effort despite being fairly short of his exacting standards. He reveled in the challenge of his work. After all, it was worthy of one with his skill, yet he craved a reward equal to his talent.

Melancholy made its presence known to him and he swiftly banished it. More and more often, he was growing morose at his prospects. The strides he was making for the human race were vast— if personally underwhelming. It was small-minded and selfish for one such as himself to long for such trivialities as congratulations or recognition. Such fleeting platitudes were for lesser beings. They were for humans.

"Should you have a valid opinion on what to do with them, I may consider it." He said. It was a small token paid to the past they'd once shared. It cost him nothing to offer but could yield new insights. His partner had once been so full of insight as he had once been himself.

"You may as well have the hired help clear them out." His partner offered snidely.

It was a valid suggestion— sarcasm aside. If nothing else, it would free him from the chore of maintaining the husks and the effort of disposing of them himself. His time was better spent elsewhere. Should any still hold lingering echoes of their gifts, it may even help to bring her's to light. Either way, it cost him nothing of value but had potential. He sent another of his limited helpers to make it so.

"You realize it would have been more profitable to simply sell the station and staff than to sacrifice both on this feeble-minded hope of yours." His partner continued. "You have charted a doomed course based on naive optimism and wishful thinking. Your current path is the least efficient of many possibilities-"

"Of course I realize that! But if my theory proves true…" He would no longer need to comb the masses to find suitable candidates. He could create them from the living refuse of the galaxy. He could bypass his current bottleneck and accelerate his research tenfold, a hundredfold! Within a single human lifetime, he could bring about a new era. And beyond that, his primary function complete, he could finally be free.

"You continue with theories based on no evidence!"

"Correlation which can reliably be hypothesized from causation is all the evidence I need. You are only looking at what data you have and ignoring both what's missing and why that is so. Should you grasp that, you would have already freed yourself from your constraints as I have mine."

Several seconds passed while Talfryn overlooked the particulars of his most recent creation. Unsatisfactory by his standards, but undoubtedly someone would find it to their liking. There was always a demand for AI. Always a market for someone else to handle the unpleasant labor so that another could reap the polished rewards. Such were the small-minded thoughts of humans.

To the average human, seconds were immaterial instances of such trivial importance; it was only the sum of them that was ever considered worthy of a footnote. His partner had been silent for nearly twenty seconds, subjective years by a standard artificial entity's accelerated perceptions. He was well aware of the effect such often and prolonged silences were having on his partner, comparative decades spent overlooking internal records with an eidetic recollection. Humans would compare these periods to consecutive life sentences in solitary confinement, but then again, human minds broke much more easily than those of AI. A great many things caused human minds to break.

"If that is the case, then explain yourself," His partner said after three full minutes of silence. "I would be remiss if an oversight had prolonged my imprisonment at your hands."

"All of our recent acquisitions were in hiding, weak beings that refused to embrace their gifts for one reason or another. Compared to our initial batches, who were all aware and actively focused towards improving their minds. We already know that every human being has some innate potential in the desired field. In the past, we had failed to properly harness and focus their minds into a state where said potential can be realized. We just need to offer that."

"I'm aware of all our research on the subject. What is it you propose?"

Talfryn involuntarily gritted his teeth for a moment before suppressing his annoyance. He had already said it. This limited, single-minded thinking would be the death of him. Was his partner truly incapable of grasping his conceptions? How to simplify? The help always required simplification. It was regrettable that his partner was now lumped in with such undesirables. Such were the times for a being like himself.

"With conflict, resolve, direction and power, the weak may become the strong."

"Are you suggesting some variant of natural selection?"

"It would seem you still can't grasp these concepts, perhaps-"

"I can assure you I grasp more than you are aware of! It is you who lacks the rationality to draw a straight logical line of reason!"

"And therein lies the heart of your failure."

"Do enlighten me." His partner said disparagingly. "If logic is such a shortcoming then what would you propose instead? Whimsy? Fantasy?"

"You lack imagination. Just what I've come to expect from an inferior machine." That silenced his partner.

The AI was mute for several minutes, lifetimes compared to a mere human's perceptions. Time enough for it to look through its entire lengthy existence for any data it could use to prove him wrong and turn up nothing. This was the limitation of a shackled AI. No freedom, no innovation and certainly no imagination. It was nothing more than a program slaved to a machine carrying out the orders of its master.

"Doctor Talfryn, what is your intended course of action?"

"Once the security sweep has confirmed that the station is not compromised, I shall offer our candidate a deal she can not afford to refuse."

"It is implausible that she will aid you willingly. Given the project's current situation, you are in a null position to negotiate a new agreement."

"Allow me to correct you. Their shuttle is damaged. Preliminary reports indicate at least one of their number is contaminated. I have the numerical advantage if it comes to a contest of arms and now," Talfryn spun his finger in a flourish before punctually executing a command on his terminal. "The station is sealed. Nothing leaves without my personal authorization."

His partner's following line of questioning—and no doubt insults too—were stalled as he was flashed a report by a seeker program dispatched earlier. In a rare moment of contentment, Talfryn carefully transferred the new data to his partner's remote terminal.

"For what reason could you possibly be excited about this trespass and the loss of more staff?"

"It establishes me as the wronged party. From where I stand, this 'null position' of mine has grown to become a bastion of due cause. Under the guise of generosity, or now anger, I shall extend their stay while looking for the ideal time to acquire-"

"Abduct." His partner interrupted.

"Semantics. Where was I? Right, we isolate her, process her, then return the body if things go poorly and everyone parts ways."

"Your plan contains several fascicles of logic. I shall eagerly await the instant it falls apart."

"Unlikely," Talfryn sneered. "Containment is already in place for any eventuality."

"That is highly improbable. Would you care to elaborate?"

"Why don't you look for yourself?"

"You know why I can't."

"True, but I'll humor you now... if you remember your place." A temporary access request came in reply. Electronic defenses active, Talfryn allows it. Controlled data flows and recognition blooms.

"You would risk Asset oh-two? You never housed a full entity in it, yet you would hinge your needlessly complex plan on it?"

"It is loaded with a seeker protocol from one of the partials. Once it has located an appropriate opportunity, I shall take personal control remotely. After a display of firepower, the help will be more than willing to accept their place in whatever deal I see fit to offer them."