Kolob and Rhonva made slow progress, climbing under the ruins of buildings which, droas earlier, towered as much as three-hundred stories into the sky. Dust was everywhere; in the air, on their clothes, kicked up as they navigated the apocalyptic scene. Vermin could be heard scuttling through the remains of civilization, picking through the fallen bodies and crushed skulls. The smell of death and destruction was omnipresent — screams and wails could be heard in the darkness, some muffled under the rubble, some seemingly demi-til away, pleading for help. They sounded hideous to Kolob, as did his own voice, unused was he, and they, to speaking aloud. His mind was a jumble of frantic pleas, piercing and thin, which he did his best to drown out. The loudest voice in his mind was a question he could not answer.
Why did I survive? Why didn’t that beam sever me in two, crush my body? Who am I?
Kolob began to get fearful.
Who am I?
His need for lleldin faded into a memory as they struggled through the landscape. Never before did Kolob need to exert so much physically. There were no roads or paths to follow, only pancaked floors of the mighty buildings that once towered above them. They climbed over great steel girders, through mountains of machinery, under the pipework that was the sewer system, all the while choking as great clouds of toxic smoke billowed above. For a while, a tunnel that a RailMover followed gave them some respite. But soon even that became sealed, and they were forced to crawl, climb, and jump over the devastation before them.
Kolob’s legs were sore, his back ached, and his legs felt as jelly, for he often had to bear the burden of Rhonva’s weight. Oft-times they would come into a clearing where light from the surface that was so far away would venture down. Lately, they could see nothing but darkness, spelling the end to a dreadful roa. One such clearing stopped them now, causing Rhonva to look up for a long time. He could feel the cast-net surface back into his mind, and for a brief moment, had contact with Malhrer itself. He was able to confirm the direction in which they were heading, and the extent of the damage.
^We should stop here for a while.^
Kolob was grateful for the rest. He didn’t want to let on how exhausted he was. They settled down on a broken chair they up-righted, after moving some dead person’s limbs to the side. Rhonva sat down with a groan, and Kolob sat down timidly next to him.
^Do you ever wonder about the meta?^
What a curious question. ^What do you mean?^ asked Rhonva, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
^To what extent their life, their individual essence, has grown?^
Rhonva let out a long sigh, allowing his fatigue to thoroughly set in, relaxing his body as much as he could.
^Do you mean, if I believe they are actually alive? What brings this on?^
^One of the programs I nest —^
^I thought you tried not to nest the broadcasts,^ cast Rhonva, irritated with Kolob’s mindless prattle.
^Sometimes I can deal with one or two. Anyway, one of them showed the progress we’ve made, and about a new brain —^
^Cerebral nexus,^ corrected Rhonva.
^— yeah, cerebral nexus, that’s been developed. They cast that these new meta can not only feel with skin, and smell, but can feel frustration, doubt, concern, anger — even some basic form of love.^
^This discussion is almost as old as the Novan faith.^ Rhonva tried to negate the pain and lean back, though with little success. ^They are tools, nothing more. It is so stupid that bored scientists would waste their time giving these machines the trappings of soumanity, though they’ll never attain our awareness. Have you ever tried to cast to a thrael? It’s a trying experience. You can tell they don’t really think about the response, that you’re merely nesting a recording set to respond to a particular query. It isn’t intelligence, or reasoning. It’s simple A is A, and B is not C. Besides, you work with them on a daily basis. Damn, you even repair some of them! What do you think?^
^First, I think we should call them by their proper name, meta, not this slang ‘thrael,’^ earnestly cast Kolob. ^Now about their thinking; I don’t know. I have seen one of those new meta. It was in pain, emotional pain, that no ordinary machine could have felt. I felt sorry for it, I wanted to help it.^
^But you are saying the key word; ‘it.’ It,^ cast Rhonva, stressing the word strongly, ^is nothing more than a collection of energy and metal.^ He paused for a moment. ^What do you mean, that it felt pain?^
^A little while ago a new meta was sent to me for cleaning. As I was about to hose it down, something within switched it back on, and it looked at me.^ Kolob paused, feeling a chill just remembering it. ^It cast to me, Rhonva. It said it had a dream.^
Rhonva was confused. ^You were cleaning some kind of new thrael?^
^Apparently it had strayed off,^ you’re not listening to me, are you? ^and was caught in some machinery. It probably shouldn’t have even been brought to me, but somehow, it was. It was amazing to look at. The technology was flawless — there was so much intricate machinery, so much complex programming, it was beautiful. It wasn’t with me long. I guess the internal sensors picked up on its presence once it reactivated, and some other meta came to take it away.^
^But it cast to you first?^
^Yeah. It cast of images in its cerebral nexus, really clear, but not associated with any time index. It cast that it was shown planet-wide devastation; wars, Novans fighting Novans. It cast the meta were helping, somehow, with someone else. And that overhead, there was a face, a being, with some plan, who smiled down on them from above. The last word it cast before it was taken from me was ‘Honabre.’^
^’Honabre’?^ asked Rhonva, genuinely perplexed. ^What’s that; a name, a program?^
Kolob shrugged. ^I don’t know. But you wouldn’t believe the confusion in its mind, the turmoil. It was like it was struggling to make a connection, trying to understand what it had been shown, and even why. It was . . . in pain.^
Rhonva sat back, shaking his head. ^I think your thrael, or ‘meta,’ as you would like, merely was suffering from a system crash. Sometimes it can take disparate images from the cast-net, and assemble them in its nexus.^ He smiled and laughed, patting Kolob on the back. ^Nothing more than that.^
Kolob sighed, wishing he could have been believed, as he could feel that after communicating with the fallen meta, that its words were true.
^Did you nest scientists are already putting some in the main population?^ That was a lie, but Kolob wanted to bluff his friend, to finally nest some respect in Rhonva’s cast for one of his ideas. Instead, Rhonva just chuckled to himself.
^Where did you nest something so ridiculous?^
^At the mall, where that guy was caught speaking.^
^Yeah, from who?^ asked Rhonva, brusquely.
^I gleaned it from three men from OLMAC, discussing how they needed to keep some communications secret.^
^How did you pick up on it? They must have been casting on a secure channel.^
^I may not be good at a great many things,^ cast Kolob, ^but you know I can penetrate most minds, and do it quietly.^
^Yes, I know.^ It had been an area of great concern for Rhonva, as he didn’t need Kolob prying into his mind, and discovering the information that lie therein. There were a great many reports of Kolob’s ability to see easily into minds, many conjectures as to what it foretold. All Rhonva knew was that Kolob was an ignorant child with an emdec gun of a mind as a toy.
^Well, that was it,^ stated Kolob. ^I gleaned, and that’s what was cast. Some meta have been integrated into the population to see how well they’ll do.^
Rhonva paused for a moment. ^That’s a disturbing thought.^
^Why?^ asked Kolob. ^Shouldn’t we see if they’re another life-form? Shouldn’t we give them the same rights as we have?^
Where is he going with this? thought Rhonva. He has never been interested in them before, he is always only concerned with himself.
^Well, Kolob, what would happen if the meta were liberated? If all the drones we
have in mining, construction, etc., were suddenly declared as equal? Imagine the havoc it would cause all business! Do we pay them wages? Do we upgrade their cerebral nexus’ so they can feel also? If they are without legs, and only wheels, do we transplant their central unit to a new one? You know that Novan is overpopulated, but do you know how dangerously overcrowded this planet is? Setting aside the various void-platforms with settlers, these globes are too full to allow settlement of a new species. You see Kolob, there are some issues we do not want to stray into. Some things are better left untouched. Besides, you know the problems we have with them. It seems every time we improve on their technology, the first generation has major flaws. Only when we orient the meta themselves to take over production, do the flaws smooth out. Take another look at the meta you work with, your supervisor. Tell me if it possesses any vestiges of compassion at all. I’ll bet, if you look close enough, you will see only pure, cynical logic in its actions and words.^
Kolob thought for a moment on what Rhonva cast. It would explain so much if I were a meta, the unfulfilling life I have. And that beam . . .
A rumbling noise brought Kolob out of his thoughts and Rhonva quickly to his feet.
“Who’s there?!” shouted Rhonva, momentarily forgetting his supposedly injured condition. “Come out into the open.” A woman stumbled out, falling onto the ground near them. Kolob rushed over, and helped her to her feet.
^Are you alright?^ he asked.
^Be careful, Kolob,^ cast Rhonva. ^We don’t know who she is, or who may be with her.^
^No one is with me, so you don’t need to worry,^ cast the woman. She looked up at Kolob. ^But it is good to finally see someone else alive.^
Kolob looked down into her eyes, and in a moment, remembered what desire and love felt like. She was beautiful beyond compare, even with the dirt and grime which covered her face, and the smell that issued from her. Her hands sent something electric through Kolob, and they felt so soft and vital that he had to look down to make sure they were actual souman hands. And when he looked up, into a face framed in brown locks untamed, with eyes the green of a forgotten paradise that at once cradled and ignited a forlorn soul, it took all his strength not to collapse at her feet.
^My name is Nahlai, and my, it is good to see someone else, too!^
Rhonva sighed to himself, and saw a good deal of work and trouble ahead for him.
Chapter 15