42.8 Years After the Network Goes Live

“I am greatly saddened and more than a little disappointed to have to speak to you today,” said Prime Executor Joanna Castile as she addressed Earth and the Sol Colonies. She wore her blue suit, its straight edges and white lapels gave her the militaristic look that such a speech demanded. “Today, I have met with representatives from the Mars Reconnaissance Force, Enceladus Base, New Europe, and the Free Republic of Jupitor in order to come to a decision that will--no doubt--impact the lives of citizens all across the system. We have discussed the future of our respective governments and possible remedies to the separation of Network and Human, but we have failed in all of these negotiations. The future, therefore is left uncertain. We stand at a crossroads, with the primitive notion of war on one side and capitulation to an entity that would strip away our rights, our liberty, and even...our humanity. I do not wish to tread the path to war, and I--along with my fellow leaders--have said and done all that was possible to avoid that eventuality. I believe it was Sir John Selphont who said, in this age of interplanetary colonization, war must be abolished. If we as a single species cannot fathom the gift we have been granted, we will surely perish on the whim of our own creation. He said this fifty years before the Network went live and now his words resonate like never before. I fear that our creation has deigned us expendable. I fear that the creation of a few has brought about the division of the many. I fear for the children who will be born into a conflict where the ultimate victory of one side may mean death for entire worlds.”

71.4 Years After the Network Goes Live

“I’ve spent my career dragging these bastards through the dirt and they want me to report on their biggest failure in over sixty years?” Yen Nguyen stared at her cameraman as they sat in the back of a limousine, her mind still racing as they made their way to the first peace summit between humanity and the Network species. There, Earth’s government would officially surrender and the Network would state their intentions. "I mean, it’s one thing to protest a war you’re winning, but we got our asses kicked throughout the whole thing. Some of the people at this summit claimed I was a Network infiltrator, attempting to assassinate government officials. I had a fucking price on my head for a year!"

Miguel smiled and checked his gear for the twelfth time since they’d left the jet. His meticulous inspection wasn’t broken for a second as he listened to her rambling.

“That bitch Westley actually offered citizenship for any colonial who turned me in,” Yen said. “Why the hell would they ask me to come?”

“You’re a reporter,” Miguel replied, lifting his handheld. “They asked you here to show that the war is over. Completely. After today, most of the people you exposed will either be out of a job or working at the end of a Network leash. How far do you think they’ll make it when the Network enslaves or mutates half the population? They want as many buried hatchets as they can find.”

Yen stared past Miguel’s camera at the man she loved. Even when the world around him was ablaze, Miguel could think in a calm and strategic manner. It seemed as though the more stressed Yen became, the more Miguel could focus. It could come across as apathetic at times, but then he would take her hand or twirl a lock of her dark hair and his touch would come so gentle that Yen would melt before his dark eyes. He was her rock, her guiding light, and he had a cute smile.

The limo came to an abrupt halt and immediately, the door was pulled open by a man in a black suit. They were ushered into the opera house and corralled into a balcony with all the other press to await the start of the conference. Several dozen politicians and military personnel were standing on the stage in chic suits and slim uniforms, painted with awards and decorations. They were showing their fists before offering their hands. For now, none of the Network representatives had arrived. Everyone silently hoped they would understand reason and allow Earth and its sister colonies to remain autonomous, but the dread was palpable.

Yen had no doubt the Network would be fair, having spent some time with various members of their government and military, but dread is catching and she felt sweat beading her brow. Maybe it was the cramped space, but then her heart started to pick up.

“Wanna do an intro?” Miguel asked, raising his handheld. “Shoulder to shoulder with the scum of the Earth stuff?”

Yen couldn’t think. Everyone was talking and pushing and jockeying for position, attempting to get that great shot. They were whispering as if a loud voice would bring down a destructive hand from the stars. To Yen, the forced silence was more unnerving than if they were screaming. She had reported from combat zones throughout her career, the air thick with bullets and shrapnel, but this silence reminded her of some old horror story. How was Miguel not feeling the tension? She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten, inhaling and exhaling on every other number. She thought about her parents. She pictured playing in the garden, the sprinkler chasing her as she giggled and teased her brother. She saw Miguel, his long pianist fingers sliding over her bare hip and…

Two...one, she thought. “This is Yen Nguyen and I am here at the Sydney Opera House to witness a moment that will no doubt change the course of life as we know it.”

Miguel smiled and made an adjustment on his handheld.

“Today, representatives from Earth and the colonies are gathered to end a decades long war that has cost lives and alienated populations all over our respective homes. As many of you know, I have always spoken against this war and some of my comments have been construed as anti-earth, but at this summit, I devoutly hope that my trust and love for my species and homeworld is rewarded with reasoned negotiation and terms for a better future. I hope that we all can see that humanity and the Network species can live together in peace and that our goals are much more in sync with one another than we have allowed in the past. The Network is, in so many ways the children of humanity and it is time we, the mother race, allow our children to come home. I will be filling you in live as the conference begins. Stay tuned and see the future unfold.”

Miguel lowered the camera and flashed his teeth again. “You are amazing,” he said, before squeezing her shoulders and planting a light kiss on her lips.

“I didn’t make it too much about me did I?” she asked, chewing her lip. She always did that after Miguel kissed her as if she wanted to take in whatever was left from the contact.

“One sentence about your run-ins with the upper-echelon is okay,” Miguel said. “Besides, your fans care about you. You give them reason to care about this.” Miguel swiped his hand in an enveloping gesture.

The inside of the opera house was gutted, the seats removed and the stage extended to allow for so massive a group of glad-handers and sneak-thieves. In any other era, these scumbags would have palms upturned and a front row gutter seat to existence. Here and now, they were the voice of humanity, dominating those who bent the knee and firebombing those who wouldn’t.

“We’re going to see these people humbled like they have never been humbled before, Miguel,” Yen said, looking down from her balcony.

“Some humility in humanity is a rare thing,” Miguel replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He smelled good. She had bought him that cologne two years ago.

Two years? It had been two years since her brother died. Her chest tightened and she felt her face flush before pushing the memory away. Why did she avoid the pain? She had blamed the war for his death, but Duc had always gone where the risk was highest. He intentionally placed himself in harm’s way as if doing so proved his own invulnerability. Duc’s death had broken the few remaining ties between Yen and their father. The bastard.

“Excuse me,” said a slender man with a terrible combover. His voice hushed the audience and everyone stared at their private projection screens. “The Network ambassadors have arrived and will be joining us shortly. They will be ushered into the building and have asked to say a few words after the official declaration. We ask that any applause or protest be kept private. If you feel that you cannot remain, please leave in as polite a fashion as humanly possible.”

“Humanly possible?” Yen laughed. Miguel pinched her side.

“The ambassadors will determine if questions will be answered afterwards.” The speaker was obviously as nervous as the rest of the attendants, but he was trying his damnedest to hide it.

Blondie stepped away from the mic and spoke to someone offstage. Yen took the moment to explain to her viewers what was happening.

"We’re moments away from the first human Network negotiation in twenty years," she said as Miguel extended his elbows to subtly steal some room. Human contact was still the best way to move the herd.

He panned back to Yen. "Hannibal Barca once said, ’I will find a way, or make one.’ Those words have never rang more true than now. We have searched long and hard, but have been lost. Now we place the first stone upon a road to lasting peace."

Yen rolled her eyes when Miguel lowered the camera. "Did I actually use the idiom ’long and hard?’"

Miguel laughed and nodded.

Only now, when utter silence dominated the room did Yen notice the smell of sweat and coffee. The air was heavy and too hot for comfort. She wanted to elbow the man closest to her, but Blondie returned.

"I am honored to present Marcus, who represents John Andrews 304 with cross speciation benefits, Gale Asara, who is the ambassador of the Green Eyes, and Hector Bowman, who..." Blondie cleared his throat. "Who is an advanced human representative."

They all knew what that meant. The man was a mixer, a human who had volunteered to be modified by the Network. Even among progressives, the mixers were regarded as abominations, unworthy of any human rights. Hector sported metallic legs and an exo-spine that, no doubt controlled the system. Yen figured the man was paralyzed before approaching the Network. Not all of their experiments were simply people seeking comic book powers. Some were converted soldiers wishing to fight their former masters, while others were refugees of ravaged war-torn worlds seeking asylum. That the price was their humanity, few seemed to mind.

The crowd was silent as the Network species entered from stage left and approached the mic.

Marcus was a typical JACS, which was the acronym for the ludicrous name given to the species by their creator. He was tall and lean with an angular face like that of a feline. His skin, a silicon based polymer was colored yellow and black at the moment, a default setting, no doubt. At will, he could change that color to match his surroundings. His long strides were due to an excess number of joints in each of his legs, which along with his arms could divide, allowing for perfect balance and tremendous speed. If divided, his new limbs would be connected by a webbing that made the JACS excellent swimmers and even allowed for gliding. For now, Marcus was very human-looking, going so far as to wear a suit. JACS typically wore very little clothing if any to allow for maximum maneuverability. Yen adored them and might have met Marcus during her visit with the JACS princeps, but with their ever-changing skin tone, couldn’t place him.

Where the JACS were lean and tall and wore their synthetic components as almost a badge of honor, the Green Eyes were slim and average in height, hiding behind thick robes. Gale wore a billowy robe of dark green and a niqab that allowed only her bright green eyes to show. The Green Eyes were a mysterious species created by a scientist with a sense of humor. Their trademark green glowing eyes would turn red when they were angry, and yellow when they sensed danger in an area. Yen guessed naming a species, traffic light eyes didn’t capture the mystique Dr. Penny Bouchard was looking for.

Earth’s representatives approached and met the three ambassadors at the mic, extending a document of surrender. “We, the speakers for the citizens of Earth, Mars, and the Coalition of Terraformed Colonies throughout our solar system surrender without condition,” said Prime Executor Richard Helms, his bald head glinting from the overhead lights.

Marcus interlaced his nine fingered hands and bowed at the neck, turning to regard the audience. All of the Network species had been designed to have human faces in order to speak the various languages of humanity. The Network had long since developed their own languages, but most were still constrained to using the mammalian features to express communication. When Marcus spoke, his accent was thick. It was most like a mix of arabic and chinese in Yen’s ears.

“Verisan, Isolde, Turvi, Maca, Vatisso 1 and 2, Marabrium, Andrew’s Haven, Blessed Ambria, Kols Station, and New United,” Marcus said, his voice somber. “These were homes to millions. They were places where the Network grew and flourished. They were areas untouched by the devastating hand of humanity. I do not say this with scorn toward humanity in general. I do not say this because I am bereft of forgiveness. I say this because, as a small part of a large network, I know that the human can create as much as it destroys. I am the product of that creation and have nothing but gratitude for the great minds and loving hearts that first breathed the gift of life into the synthetic lungs of my predecessors. I weep for the broken strands of a network that took centuries to build, but tears of sadness may yet turn to tears of joy at peace, everlasting. Though war has robbed us of our children, we shall not seek retribution for the sake of petty vengeance. The peace forged today has come at too great a cost for many, which is why I come before you with so small a contingent. Many of you too, may share the sentiment, but for this peace to endure, a great price must be paid.”

Yen’s vision blurred as tears formed in her eyes. Miguel was holding her tightly and she felt him convulse as the embrace of peace took hold.

Green eyes turned yellow.

“It is only justice, we seek,” Marcus said, his skin shifting to black. His arms divided, tearing his suit away. Something was glowing in his chest. Like a fiery heart, it expanded as he shouted something in his native tongue.

“NO!” Miguel screamed.

Why, Yen thought as Marcus transformed into a bright and terrible star upon the stage.