Some are astonished, others have confirmation of the rumors, but everyone is glad to receive help in such a difficult moment. They welcome her with warm applause. Like it was before.
She stands up. “I am pleased to be here. It looks like AISI. I recognize some of you and I remember our achievements. This time we are facing a challenge of an unprecedented difficulty. A challenge we must win at all costs. The existence of the whole population is at stake. But let’s come to the point. In the days spent at the simulator, we found out a cure for the damage caused by the virus.”
Their faces light up.
“Do you mean we can bring the victims back to life?”
She tightens her lips. “I don’t want to create false hopes. Till now we have performed only simulations. Now we are testing the treatment on a corpse.”
The looks concentrate on a crystal cylinder on the right of the platform. A wan emaciated corpse is inside.
The data flow on a screen.
“The treatment file has been installed,” states Eve. “Let’s start.”
A menu appears in mid-air.
An invisible hand activates the functions. The cylinder fills with a light mist. After a few minutes this condenses into a film.
In the background is the buzzing of the equipment. On the screens frenzied sequence of numbers and graphs.
A minute passes.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
The corpse is still immobile.
Then a beep, a single, weak beep. Everybody turns.
On a distant screen, amidst the other equipment, a green dot shines.
The scientists rush to the terminals. Excited phrases.
The dot in the screen makes a leap. Then another.
In unison, all the other equipment lights up. The alarms sound.
The glances concentrate on the ashen body. He is as pale as death. For him time has really stopped running.
But the screens show something happened.
A quiver of the right hand. He moves a finger, raises his hand.
Slowly, he opens his eyes. Pupils veiled from a long sleep.
A few seconds, as long as eternity, instantaneously engraved in the memory of those present, the crowning achievement of their efforts.
A Hooray! as deafening as thunder bursts out.
A week later.
The scientists are gathered in front of the director and Eve. An electric atmosphere, they wait for the announcement. Only suppositions and many rumors.
The director stands up. First, he looks at the audience, then starts in a measured voice: “A week has passed from the contagion. Now the treatment is ready to be used on a large scale. Unfortunately the last tests had a negative outcome. We can cure only part of the population.”
A shiver runs through the group.
Eve speaks: “I thank all of you for your dedication and team spirit.”
She pauses and stares at the confused expressions of people whom only the enormous tension and the motivation to succeed is keeping alive. “As said by the Director, the outcome is uncertain.”
A scientist stands up. “Can you quantify the result?”
“The success rate is between fifty and eighty per cent.” Eve’s clear voice echoes in the silence: “Whatever happens, we must be proud of our work: we have done everything possible.” She feels their eyes on her. “In a few hours, millions of people will be brought back to life.”
Those in the hall feel a surreal calm.
Eve turns her eyes towards the screen above the platform. A low altitude shot of Alphacity appears. Streets and buildings scattered with an expanse of yellow dots, among which show up vivid red lights: the infected and the victims.
“The deaths have reached the ten percent of the population,” announces Eve. “Now I am freeing the repair programs.”
A circular wave spreads from a corner. Like a foaming torrent, it flies along the streets, insinuates itself into the buildings, invades the basements, progressively coloring the town with green. But here and there yellow and red specks flash tenaciously.
Eve raises her arm towards a number on the right of the map, fluctuating unceasingly. “That’s the success rate.” She directs her attention to a series of graphs. “In half an hour, we will have the first estimate.”
The countdown.
Time passes not in seconds and minutes, but in numbers and percentages.
Bodies frozen by tension, exclamations turned to whispers.
A slow agony, towards an inexorable result.
At the first estimate just a murmur.
Data are updated, hour after hour.
Towards evening, the verdict arrives and is received in total silence.
ALL TOGETHER
@
Long silent processions, shining with the lights the inhabitants hold in their hands, moving towards a single destination, the main square of the town, where the ceremonies are taking place. The participants’ pallor and sadness reveal a deep pain – many have a loss in the family – but their dignified behavior shows they have accepted their fate.
They stop in front of a platform at one side of the square.
At nine o’ clock, the Admiral starts the ceremony: “We are here to bid the last farewell to our parents, sisters, brothers, relatives and friends that a cruel fate has robbed of life. For all of them, I am asking for a minute of silence.”
The people of the Caravels bend their heads and remain concentrated on their sufferings that even the Alpha Centauri anthem, sweet ancient music dealing with courage and solidarity, cannot soothe.
“A month ago,” the Admiral continues in a carrying voice, “we were celebrating the beginning of our voyage and the birth of the Alpha Centauri Republic. The moment we waited for so long, the crowning of years of hard work. However, the evil ravaged our minds and killed the most unlucky of us.
Now we are here again, to grieve for our dead and dedicate our lives to the objective we have chosen to follow by embarking on the Caravels.”
The Admiral turns towards Eve. “To this woman, I say thank you for having brought us back to life and having given us the opportunity of restarting our mission.”
After an emotional silence, the audience bursts into a flood of applause. Eve goes to the platform. Millions stand in front of her, waiting for her words. The people she is fighting for, to whom she will dedicate her future.
Her clear voice echoes in the square: “I decided to take part in the voyage to Alpha Centauri because we can give dignity to the virtual people only by migrating to a new world.” She stares at the living sea; she senses their emotions. “Your presence this evening is for me your biggest gift: in this moment I can feel the force of our solidarity and the firmness of our motivations. It is an extraordinary experience, that makes me understand how the people of the Caravels are able to turn into reality even their most daring dreams.”
When Eve leaves the platform, her friends and colleagues run up to her. Victoria and Adam hug the woman. The commander of the Special Forces first congratulates, then draws her aside. “We completed the inspection of the underground world, but we couldn’t find Nihil. He must be on the surface.”
“Have you picked up his trail?”
“Not yet, but the search has narrowed to the 13th district.”
“A matter of days, then.”
They rejoin the group and turn towards the platform, where meanwhile C573Y has begun speaking: “We cannot lower our guard yet.”
He raises his arm towards the hologram of a dozen individuals displayed in the night sky. “Here are our enemies, all of them free. The first one on the left is their leader, Nihil, the one responsible for all our disasters.”
He shakes his arm. “While they remain free, we will never be safe!”
CLOSE TO THE SKY
@
Midnight. Eve wakes up abruptly. A top priority message has appeared in her visual field:
*** CONTACT WITH ARMED GROUP ***
&n
bsp; She sits up in bed, keeps still just enough time to recover her strength, then jumps to her feet and puts on her armor. A few moments later she is striding along a corridor, towards a glass door. Just beyond, an ovoid, with the engine running, stands out against the black sky.
“13th district,” she orders jumping into the cockpit. While the noise of the engines rends the air, the vehicle starts a dizzy ascent. Through the transparent covering, Eve glances at the Security Headquarters. It is filling with light and, in the vast central yard, the robots are going to and fro. They rush to the gates and spread through the town. Behind her, in the distance, the aircraft loaded with troops.
The ovoid skims over the buildings. The whole town is an immense succession of checkpoints and patrols. There is no sign of civilians who are hidden in their houses as requested by Security.
Eve connects to the main computer: “What’s happened?”
“The flying cameras have captured faces which the recognition program has identified as belonging to the terrorists.”
“Is Nihil among them?”
“His face doesn’t appear in any recording, but it is possible he is one of the individuals filmed from behind: some of them have the same build.”
“Show me the area.”
A low altitude shot materializes. The troops are converging on a residential area.
“Connect me to the officer.”
A hologram appears.
“How are things going, captain?” she starts.
“We have completed the siege. One of our patrols has engaged the enemy in a gunfight, forcing him to retire into a building at the end of the street.” He raises his arm towards a block of flats a few hundred meters away.
“Activate the killers,” orders Eve.
A black swarm, made up of tiny machines able to slip into the narrowest openings, takes off and heads threateningly for the building. After it has disappeared inside, Eve continues following the events on her visual field. The contact is almost immediate; a close chase along the corridors, up to an apartment. The terror stamped on the faces, frenzied shrieks. After a series of explosions, a dead silence falls.
The ovoid lands in front of the building. The robots have already recovered the victims – few youths with emaciated faces – and are loading them onto an armored container, ready to leave for the headquarters.
The captain runs up to Eve.
“Did you find Nihil?” she asks.
The other shakes his head. “He wasn’t in the group.”
Eve gets in touch with her assistant: “At what point is the preparation of the search agents?”
“They will be ready tomorrow morning.”
“I want them to be spread as soon as possible.”
The hours pass slowly. The sky changes from black to deep blue, while the stars disappear and the horizon is tinged with pink. All of a sudden the first rays of sunlight filter between skyscrapers and rapidly descend towards the street, lighting up troops and vehicles. These are dark shapes against the blazing background.
“We are ready.”
“Let’s start,” orders Eve.
A flight of ovoids appears. They are spreading a luminescent cloud, which slips into the skyscrapers, the houses and the basements. Millions of microscopic programs that exchange information, behaving as a single being as big as the town, in constant touch with the headquarters, even able to recognize the enemies’ traces, to chase and kill them. The same programs which Eve began to prepare before her departure.
They start converging towards the terrace of a skyscraper.
“There he is!”
Eve beckons to a dozen soldiers to follow her and all together they run towards an ovoid. The ovoid starts the takeoff.
Now the flying cameras are transmitting the first images from the skyscraper. There is their enemy, surrounded by whirls of light that he tries to keep away by shaking his cloak.
The ovoid approaches the skyscraper, a monument as dazzling as the sun. It performs a sharp turn, and then stops about ten meters above the terrace. Nihil, wrapped in the light, is running up and down with outstretched arms, like a blind man.
She addresses the pilot: “Let’s get down.”
FINAL FIGHT
@
Nihil is leaning his back against a low wall, at the center of a pool of light, drenched with a luminescent fluid. His stillness and lowered eyes make him seem to be unconscious.
But at a sudden noise of steps, he raises his head. In front of him stand Eve and her troops.
“I was waiting for you. I understood you were on the Caravels when your programs attacked me,” he whispers. His face lightens with a scoffing smile. “You will not win.”
“Kill him!” shouts Eve.
In an instant, the programs with which he is soaked, pierce his body like needles, covering every cell with a thin film. Nihil remains as motionless as a glass statue. A fresh breeze is sweeping the terrace.
“Nothing must be left.”
A thick smoke bursts out of his body.
When it vanishes, Nihil has disappeared. His cells have been dissolved into the single components, and the wind has dispersed them.
Other ovoids are hovering around the skyscraper. One of them lands on the terrace and a squad disembarks.
“I must go,” says Eve to the captain. But halfway to it, she shivers, her sight grows dim, she staggers. Just before falling to the ground, she recovers her strength. Still dazed, the woman reaches the aircraft and collapses into her seat. “To the headquarters!”
During take-off, she calls C573Y: “I got rid of him.”
“Congratulations!”
“He carried out his revenge.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He never limited himself to threats.”
“Our search programs have not pointed out any anomaly, even after being updated.”
“It’s a brand new virus! Move the population out to another server.”
After a few seconds, C573Y starts: “An unknown program makes the transfer impossible.”
Eve half-closes her eyes, “We are trapped.”
The ovoid begins the descent towards the Security Headquarters. On the roof, a small crowd is waiting for her, ready for the celebrations. Among them, is Victoria waving her arm and Adam.
Eve gets in touch: “You all, take shelter in the bunker!”
“What’s happening?”
“No time for explanations. Carry out the order!”
The group sways, then dashes towards the entrance.
Eve follows them, clenching her teeth. Matter of minutes.
Her throat starts burning. Beads of sweat are dripping from her forehead. When she wipes them away, her fingers get covered with a sticky substance. Her features are melting!
A shooting pain, as if her nerves were scorching; a series of convulsions, attacks so intense and prolonged that her muscles get torn and her organs reduced to a bleeding pulp. Bent in an unnatural position, Eve feels her life slipping away. Just when she has victory within her grasp, their dream dies…
When the ovoid lands on the terrace, the woman’s body is unrecognizable. Scattered around, the remains of her companions are slowly dissolving.
In the meantime the news of the victory spreads throughout the town. In a state of collective euphoria, the inhabitants mill around in the streets. They hug and kiss. Now the sufferings are only memories.
But the disease runs through the streets, crosses the squares and breaks into the houses, taking their occupants by surprise.
The following morning, while the moon vanishes and the sky lightens with blue, the sun caresses the skyscrapers, the palaces and the parks once again. Wing beats. A finch flies from a garden, whirls around an obelisk and alights on a roof. The air fills with birdsong.
But the town doesn’t wake up. A gust of chilly wind strips a cloud of dry leaves from a row of plane trees and makes them whirl around.
The bridge is in deep silence. A few andro
ids are staring at the screens, concentrated on the images of the town. Their strained faces make them look one hundred years older.
C573Y moves away from the group. His rhythmic steps break the silence. He stops in front the panoramic window where he remains motionless gazing at the most sparkling star, Alpha Centauri. Apparently the android is absorbed in thought; broken-hearted.
BEYOND DEATH
Men burn with the desire for eternity. Some prophets nourish the hope which promises afterworlds of bliss or horrors. Others guarantee rebirth as a new being. But many believe all this is an illusion.
We Net beings yearn for eternal life too. Our existence is certainly much longer, but like men, we cannot escape death. So, what should we expect?
0101 010101001
SHADES
“To the lake!”
The ovoid descends into the multitude of vehicles crowding the aerial freeways in the evening hours. It passes between two rows of skyscrapers dotted with lights, flies over the outskirts and skims over the treetops of a luminescent wood. Half an hour later it lands on a rock towering in the middle of a plain. The place where they are used to meeting almost every week, after work.
Victoria and Adam get out the cockpit and walk for a hundred meters through a meadow and up to the brink of a precipice. They sit down on a boulder. Victoria bends forward and pulls up a blue blade of grass as smooth as silk. She fiddles with it nervously.
In spite of the night hour, it is not dark. The big star on the horizon tinges the plain with orange and lights the rippling surface of the lake with golden reflections. The sparkling dot of an ovoid appears in the distance.
“She has arrived.”
The vehicle lands by the first one. A dark figure gets out, looks around, then gives a wave and approaches with long strides.
“Sorry I am late,” murmurs Eve while sitting in front.” The Admiral called me. He told such an incredible story…”
The others become curious.
“When Nihil realized his defeat was unavoidable, he avenged himself by spreading deadly viruses. All the population died.”
Victoria starts. “Are you joking?”